


Snowball Kisses

by eatamilkbone



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Anger, Antagonism, Auror Harry Potter, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Cum Eating, Eventual Romance, Filth, Filthy, Foul Language, Fucking With Wands, Full Consent, Gay Harry, Hate Sex, Hate fucking, Hitting, M/M, Married Draco, Missing Reports, Office Sex, Perversion, Perverted, Porn With Plot, Public Toilets, Punching, Rimming, S&M, Secret Relationship, Slapping, Smut, Snowball Kisses, Spanking, Swearing, Things Put Where They Don't Belong, Unspeakable Draco Malfoy, Violent Sex, Weird Sex, angry, closeted draco, cum denial, cum sharing, face fucking, gagging, hung harry, pleasure - Freeform, winding up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2020-06-02 23:59:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 21,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19452187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eatamilkbone/pseuds/eatamilkbone
Summary: After a violent confrontation over a missing report evolves into a hateful fuck, Harry and Draco start a series of violent and perverted trysts until a snowball kiss changes everything.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The following fic will be the most perverted thing I have ever written. And, I fucking love it.

It began at the Ministry’s Yule Gala.

Harry had arrived late, having scoured the entirety of his office _**and**_ the clerks files for the damned report about the practicality of kneazles being used as bait in cursed buildings. His robes were askew when he entered the lush ballroom, and he was humiliated by his unkempt appearance. _**And**_ he hadn’t managed to file the report for Head Auror Robards on time. As the lead Auror on the experiment he would be the one to blame for it.

Even though it was Malfoy’s motherfucking fault. And this wasn’t the first instance of Draco purposefully forgetting to file a report with Harry.

As Harry arrived at the gala, he saw the smug blonde git standing across the room, champagne held aloft with a superior, and totally undeserved, grace. His little wife Astoria stood next to him, nervous and shy as Draco led the conversation with French dignitaries using a poise and haughty air only a Malfoy could possess.

Snatching a whiskey off the tray that whisked his way, held by no one but magic itself, Harry downed the drink in a silent acknowledgement of his ire. He stood glaring at Malfoy, who leant in to his conversation partners and laughed alongside them dutifully and with smooth social skill.

It pissed Harry off. He grabbed another whiskey just to dampen the rage but it only served to increase it.

“You look like you’re about to kill him,” Ron observed when he came to stand next to Harry.

“It’s a distinct possibility,” Harry confirmed. “The fucking wanker does it on purpose you know?”

“Does what?”

“Put me in the shit all the time,” Harry grumbled. “Missing reports, showing me up, putting me down in meetings... the lot of it!”

“He’s Malfoy,” Ron said calmly. “What else do you expect?”

Harry had simply shrugged, and took another whiskey off the tray that passed him. He said nothing else to Ron, and when the continually harried Hermione joined their party, she seemed to take wise stock of Harry’s fury and paid it no mind.

After ten minutes of scowling at the oblivious Malfoy, Harry left his friends to pretend to talk to a hovering witch he knew somewhat fancied him, so he could get a better view of the poncy prat.

When Malfoy left the company of his doting, sweet and out-of-her-depth wife to walk in the direction of the loos, Harry made a (rather sharp) apology to the witch he had been conversing with, and swept straight out of the room in the direction of Malfoy.

He hovered outside the loos for several minutes until Malfoy came out, and when the tall, smirking git appeared, Harry grabbed the front of his robes and used Malfoy’s surprise as leverage to thrust him backwards and to the left down a hallway.

Harry laid the first punch, knocking Draco straight back, so the man stumbled on his feet. It gave Harry just enough time to whisper a silencing spell around them.

Harry stalked after Draco, and before Draco could grab his wand, he landed a punch straight to the gut.

“What the fuck are you doing, Potter?” Draco gasped, wounded.

“You set me right up, didn’t you?” Harry pushed Draco back, and in the process, Harry took a right hook that landed on his chin.

“What are you talking about?” Draco growled as he grabbed the front of Harry’s robes and aimed his knee at Harry’s crotch.

“That,” Harry began, dodging Draco’s knee, “Fucking. Kneazle. Report.”

Harry pushed Draco back against the wall and held Draco in place with his arm across his chest. They were millimetres apart, and Draco tried to push back but Harry’s posture prevented him.

“You’re pathetic,” Draco said. He spat in Harry’s face, with the spit reaching Harry’s cheek and the corner of his mouth. “And drunk.” Draco managed to wrap an arm around Harry and tug his hair back, exposing his throat.

He leaned in, intending to bite Harry, but Harry stamped on his foot and moved away swiftly. Draco, seeing the opportunity, rushed after him and gave him a stinging slap across the face.

“Urgh!” Harry yelled with guttural force. “You are such a fucking sissy.”

“You don’t even know how to be a proper wizard,” Draco tackled Harry to the ground. “Look at you... debasing yourself to fight like a muggle!”

“You’re fighting back, you entitled arse. I’ve had a-fucking-nough with you...”

Harry squirmed under Draco, tugging Draco’s hair back viciously and reaching to slap Draco’s lower back. The slap landed straight on Draco’s arse.

Draco groaned, and Harry wasn’t sure what to make of the tone of it. Changing course, he found leverage and kicked Draco off him, and Draco flew back.

Splayed on his back, Harry knelt over Draco and pulled him up by Draco’s tie. With Draco’s face inches from Harry’s, Harry seethed. “I want that fucking report, right fucking now!”

“And I want my cock so far down your throat you gag.”

Harry couldn’t help the way he stilled and his eyes went wide. Draco looked up at him, challenging him, unashamed. Harry accepted Draco’s statement as completely factual.

Harry took a few deep breaths in and out before he replied. “I think your arse should be fucked so hard you are forced to apologise for everything you are, you absolute excuse for a man.”

“You don’t have it in you,” Draco jibed. “Such a prim little Saviour...”

“Get in that fucking office Malfoy,” Harry demanded, pulling Draco up and shoving him against the nearest door.

Draco stumbled inside and didn’t see it coming when Harry, having locked the door, forced Draco to his knees and tried to undo his trousers.

“No. Fucking. Way!” Draco snapped, tugging Harry violently down by his belt.

They ended up tussling again, rolling about the floor and knocking into furniture roughly.

“You smell like whiskey,” Draco told Harry with disgust. “How much did you drink in the half hour you were at the party?”

“It had to be only half hour didn’t it?” Harry replied as he gained dominance. “Spent all evening panicking about a _**fucking report on kneazles that you should have submitted to me weeks ago**_!”

“I’ll never submit to you,” Draco hissed.

“Oh yeah?” Harry growled. “Yeah?!” He forced Draco to his knees by his throat, and then stood in front of him. He had his cock out, bobbing in front of Draco’s face within seconds. He revelled in the way Draco’s eyes opened in surprise at Harry’s nine inch and girthy as fuck cock. “Suck it.”

In a tell tale sign that Draco was very much okay with the order, he moaned deeply and made the first move to lean in and take what he could of Harry’s dick into his mouth.

“Quicker!” Harry snarled, grabbing the back of Draco’s head and forcing Draco to take Harry’s dick deep into his mouth. “Ugh! Fuck! Who’s gagging now, huh?”

There was spit pouring out of Draco’s mouth as he did indeed gag. When Harry ignored Draco’s first plea to pull off, Draco reached up and squeezed Harry’s balls so tight the man let out a yelp of pain.

Before Harry could react, Draco sent a tripping hex at Harry that sent him to the floor. Draco had his dick out of his smart black, tailored, trousers in moments, and pried Harry’s mouth open to take it.

He fucked Harry’s mouth for a minute or so, until Harry bit down slightly in warning and Draco sprang back rapidly.

Harry was up and pouncing on Draco instantly, dragging him up by the hair and flinging him on to his back upon the desk. Harry yanked Draco’s trousers down and off his prone body, uncaring about the fabric or the way the shoes ripped off Draco’s feet.

“For fucks sake, Potter... I know you have no idea of luxury items but those trousers are _Italian wool_!”

Harry paid no attention. He made sure his dick was all the way out of his clothes, and spat on his hand to slick it ready for fucking Draco. He then pushed Draco’s legs up enough to expose Draco’s arsehole, and then leaned in to spit on it crudely three times. He reached inside Draco with one finger, then two, and then three before lining himself up against Draco’s twitching hole.

“Please, no, Potter,” Draco begged, the tone suddenly desperately serious. “Please spell some lube. I can’t take anything that big this dry...”

“Do it yourself,” Harry growled, wordlessly summoning Draco’s wand from the floor. “You have a second to do it.”

Draco made haste, just as Harry’s tip breached his hole.

Harry took his time entering Draco fully. Draco’s eyes were tightly shut, his face screwed up and blossoming with bruises from Harry’s blows. Harry noticed that Draco’s lip was split, and he revelled in the sight of it.

As Harry began to thrust, Draco let out a series of moans that indicated he was very much enjoying Harry’s thick cock.

“You love this, don’t you?” Harry asked huskily. “I bet you lay back and take it from any man who lowers himself to give you a fuck... just like the absolute slut you’re showing yourself to be.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

“I’m not going to let you cum,” Harry told Draco with full certainty lacing his voice. “You’re not in control here. I am.”

“You will,” Draco assured, “or I will let everyone know you’re a poof.”

Harry fucked Draco harder. Draco slid back and forth on the desk, messing everything up upon it.

“You wouldn’t risk your little wife finding out about this.”

Draco, lost in the throws of an ecstasy laced with pain as Harry leaned up and pinched his nipple so hard he thought Harry might pull it off, reached down to grab his straining cock.

“I really don’t want you to enjoy this,” Harry murmured, taking his chance to slap Draco’s hand away.

“Tough fucking luck. I’m enjoying it already,” Draco replied, “you don’t always get what you want Potter. It’s a lesson you have to learn.”

“I want that report,” Harry warned him as his pace and facial expression suggested Harry’s imminent release, “or I’m going to fuck you again and I promise you now, you won’t get to cum then either.”

“Try me,” Draco challenged.

Harry slapped Draco. “Slut... fucking queer, closeted slut.”

“Says you Potter,” Draco goaded between gasps of enjoyment, “closeted... uh... fag.”

“Ha! You’re the one in an arranged marriage... Merlin, you’re an absolute... I feel sorry for you...” Harry came hard, fast, pounding until he spilt every drop of cum into Draco.

“Get out of me!” Draco snarled, pushing Harry back the best he could, denying Harry the chance to bask in the afterglow.

Harry respected Draco’s wishes enough to pull out slowly, smirking all the while. He then made himself decent again as Draco scrambled on the desk. “Cheers, that was... okay.” Harry turned to leave.

Draco grabbed him by the arm, turning him around. “You do not get to leave me hanging, Potter,” Draco told him, rubbing his cock in his hand. He looked Harry straight in the eye and positioned himself against Harry’s groin. With his free hand, he unfastened and pulled Harry’s trousers and boxers down before cumming all over Harry’s softening dick.

“What the fuck?” Harry asked, disgusted.

“There,” Draco gasped, “have a little reminder of me for the rest of the evening.”

“You’re perverted.”

“And apparently, so are you.” Draco muttered, making himself look presentable before fleeing, Harry guessed, to the men’s toilets.

Harry stood in the messy office, smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry had been chosen to be part of an elite task force, made up of the DMLE and DoM, led by none other than Unspeakable Draco Malfoy himself.

Why anyone thought it a safe bet to put Harry on a team with Draco was a mystery to Harry, and as he sat in the introductory meeting for the task force and their objective, all he could think about was how much Draco’s smug look and condescending voice irritated him, and how stunning Draco had looked on his back as Harry thrust his big cock in and out of him at the Yule Gala.

That was over two months ago.

Harry wondered, as he watched Draco gesticulate with his long, thin, pale fingers, how far Draco might push him and how far he would have to go to punish Draco for it. Draco, Harry thought, needed a lot of punishment and the idea that he could give it to him was delectable to Harry.

Harry was lost in a daydream, thinking about it all.

“Potter,” Draco drawled as he stood with a sneer on his face in front of a large blackboard full of his loopy, ostentatious handwriting. “Are you even listening, or has your shiny Order of Merlin, Twat Class given you reason to think you’re above even the most important aspects of your chosen career?”

Harry blushed as he was brought out of his musings, but when he looked at Malfoy, all he felt was his heart quicken in enmity. Harry’s colleagues all gave a bit of a giggle, which antagonised the situation further. Harry snapped.

“You know Malfoy, you keep on trying to put me down, day after day, year after year… it’s almost as if you’re trying to deflect from the fact that actually,” Harry looked him straight in the eyes, “you’re jealous of me. And I wonder why that is? Is it because I turned down your offer of friendship when we were 11, or is it because I killed your most beloved Dark Lord?”

The room went cold as all their colleagues seized with awkwardness.

“Need I remind you Potter, that I am leading this operation and if you don’t comply then you will be removed and deposited back into saving kittens from trees? Failure to comply includes back talking your superior.” Each word Draco said was spat in superiority and fury.

“I’d prefer the kittens any day,” Harry snarled. “Working with you would be worse than watching your aunt torture my best friend…”

“Well then, you can just fuck right-” 

“Would you two please just shut up and get on with the lecture,” a member of the DoM who Harry didn’t know asked irritation. “I don’t want to miss lunch because you two act like children!”

Both Harry and Draco reserved their ire for later, and with great difficulty Draco went back to leading the meeting.

.

.

.

Harry had thought all day about how he could strip Draco of his pride. He had wound himself up so much that he had locked his office door and covered the room with a silencing spell before he pulled down his trousers and wanked to the memory of Draco cumming all over his dick.

By the end of the day, Harry couldn’t take it anymore and so he hovered near the floos in the Ministry Atrium, waiting for Draco to begin his way home. 

At six, when Draco did appear, Harry saw the blonde speed up to avoid Harry, although Draco’s eyes were challenging and suggestive. Harry moved swiftly to intercept; he wanted to have it out with Draco for being such an annoying, rude git. He caught up with Draco and dragged him into the phone box that ascended to the London street above them.

“Get off me Potter!” Draco snapped, tugging his elbow away from Harry.

“Not on your life, Malfoy. You’re going to explain to me exactly _**what**_ the fuck you thought you were doing, embarrassing me like that in front of everybody!”

Draco laughed. The sound twinkled in the air between them. “You don’t need me to embarrass you, Potter… you’re a walking joke,” Draco gestured up and down Harry’s body. “Just look at you, for Merlin’s sake!”

“You know what, Malfoy?” Harry asked as they came to a stop on the bustling street. Harry pushed Draco up against the glass. “There’s only one way a closeted slut like you can be put in their place, and I intend to do so right now.”

Harry pushed Draco out of the phone box and pulled him by the collar into a department store a few doors down. Harry scanned the room for a sign for the toilets, and finding it, he pulled Draco by the wrist all the way until they were locked firmly and alone in the men’s room.

“Lock the fucking door with magic,” Harry demanded into Draco’s ear as he came up behind him and held his throat firmly, so Draco’s back was pressed against Harry’s chest. “Cast a silencing spell you waste of fucking space.”

Draco did as told, but not without hitting back at Harry with an elbow that landed right in the ribs. Because Harry had reeled back in pain, Draco found the advantage to spin around and hold Harry up by the neck against the wall. He spat in Harry’s face.

“I am going to have you taken off the Solar Stones operation,” Draco snarled.

Harry, despite choking and struggling for air, swung out and punched Draco, splitting his lip. As he was let go from Draco’s chokehold, he watched in fascination as Draco’s lip streamed blood.

“Good! I don’t want to be on any team with you!” Harry finally replied in a fuming yell, before he ran at Draco and pushed him back against the sink. Draco’s head hit the mirror with a clunk and he gasped in pain, but Harry ignored it and pushed him so Draco’s back was arched uncomfortably in the into the bowl of the sink.

“You’re not on a team with me,” Draco squeaked out, his neck twisted and crushed. “You’re on _my _team.”__

__“You know what, Draco? I wish I hadn’t saved your life,” Harry said, cruelly pushing Draco’s head down so that Draco’s cheek was against the sideboard and his neck sat uncomfortably against the porcelain. Harry was incensed. He _ **HATED**_ Draco. He hated everything Draco chose to be. “You don’t deserve to live. You need to pay for all the shitty things you have done. All of them! All the missing reports, all the lying, even the fucking Vanishing Cabinet for fucks sake!”_ _

__Draco struggled against Harry, and Harry relented enough so Draco could move his head and look up to Harry in horror._ _

__“You have some nerve,” Draco told him, his voice quiet and cold. Harry saw in that moment how deep he could cut Draco. He liked it. It made him feel powerful and in control. Oh, Merlin! he had so much he wanted to scream at Draco about. He wanted to hurt him for all the cruel taunts, all the pain he caused, for the constant campaign of unprofessional terror he was laying on Harry._ _

__“I believe you’re the one with balls the size of Hogwarts,” Harry taunted. “You must have massive balls to be a Death Eater… and a fairly competent one at that. Aren’t you almost solely responsible for allowing _children_ to be tortured at school during ‘97 and ‘98?!”_ _

__Draco looked like he might cry or kill Harry. Or both; a dangerous combination, surely. His breathing was staggered and his eyes locked on to Harry’s defiantly. “You don’t have any idea what happened to me, Potter. Your assumptions make you weak.” Draco’s words trembled and his lip shook as he spoke. “Apologise,” he ordered as he struggled to stand._ _

__“Not on your life, Malfoy,” Harry protested as Draco wrestled free and came at him with silent rage that gave Draco the strength to throw Harry across the room. Harry’s back hit a cubicle door, and he fell through it and onto his arse with a painful yelp._ _

__“Then,” Draco said as he stalked to Harry, “you’ll have to make it up to me some other way.”_ _

__He roughly pulled Harry’s glasses off his face and inspected them with disdain as Harry silently wondered when he had lost control. “These are the ugliest, cheapest spectacles I have ever seen,” he commented, before throwing them over to the cistern where they clattered worryingly. Harry whimpered at the vulnerability his blurry eyesight caused._ _

__Draco pulled Harry up by the front of his robes, and punched him in the face three vicious times. The punches left Harry’s head spinning, his mind whirling. He was hard as a rock, his erection painful as it strained against his tight work trousers._ _

__Draco spat in Harry’s face again, and left a stinging slap on his cheek where Draco’s palm collided with Harry’s spit soaked skin._ _

__“Open your mouth,” Draco told him, his voice dangerous in a low pitch._ _

__Harry mewled. He was in terrible pain and his left eye felt close to swelling._ _

__“Do you want to stop?” He asked Harry in a whisper, his tone almost caring._ _

__Harry shook his head, no. His jaw dropped obediently whilst Draco stood over Harry and looked down at him with a leer. Harry put a bored, disdainful look upon his face to show a displeased defiance._ _

__Slowly, Draco unbuttoned his trousers and tugged them down along with his pants, enough to give Harry access to his rock solid cock. “Suck,” Draco ordered, sliding the pre-cum dripping member into Harry’s mouth._ _

__Draco fucked Harry’s mouth in a fevererous passion. He moaned, long and loud. Harry could taste Draco’s enjoyment with every bead of lushious pre-cum that slid over his tongue._ _

__Harry performed the part of plaything dutifully for several minutes. His neck and chest were covered in his own spit from where he was gagging around Draco’s dick as it pressed firmly against the back of his throat. When he heard the telltale signs that Draco was but three licks of Harry’s tongue away from orgasm, Harry pulled away with a gross slurp._ _

__Draco looked down at him in horror and sex-addled confusion._ _

__He looked so pathetic to Harry that Harry started laughing._ _

__“Put your disgusting excuse for a penis away, Malfoy,” he said between bouts of chuckles. He spat in disgust onto the floor to his left. It felt fantastic for Harry to see Malfoy so unhinged. “Sorry… I know you must find it difficult to get off with someone of your own gender, seeing as you’re _married_ to a woman like a good little pureblood heir should be, but I just don’t give a fuck enough about you to help you out.” _ _

__He was thrilled by Draco’s shocked, rageful and wanting expression. Draco was breathing heavily, angrily, and his eyes glinted with turmoil. There was such a vulnerability there, an emotion on Draco he had only seen once before; the night he cast Sectumsempra on him._ _

__Draco’s cock twitched with residual stimulation, and the livid red head told Harry that it would take just a small gesture to have Draco spunking for him._ _

__Harry stared Draco down. “Cum,” he commanded._ _

__And right then it was crystal clear who had the upper hand in this particular fight. On demand, Draco did as was told with no further stimulation, his cock hanging absurdly out of his trousers and robes. Three thick bolts of cum shot across the tiled floor, and Harry watched as Draco blushed, sick that he could be told to ejaculate._ _

__Harry smirked, and made a show of rubbing his cock through his trousers for a moment. “Thanks for the warmup,” he said shrewdly. “I’m going to go home and fuck my boyfriend who, unlike you, is worth something.”_ _

__Harry summoned his glasses, and checked them over for damage, keeping a cool suave air about him as he made sure he was in a fit state to walk out of the loo with a quick glamour to hide his wounds, before looking Draco up and down, smirking, unlocking the door and leaving the man alone in humiliation._ _

.

.

.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit dark, but I promise following chapters are lighter and far dirtier. And all suggestions for objects to be put up the arses of these two prats are being taken into consideration and will be, in whatever way they can, worked into the story in the following chapters.

Harry was most certainly the antagonist leading up to their third fuck, and he totally deserved the furious rogering Draco gave him in the toilets of the DMLE.

Harry had (and quite honestly, purposefully) dropped the carefully constructed model of the Solar Stones Draco had been working painstakingly on for months. The model was instrumental in teaching the Aurors about the dangers of touching or handling the stones, and the magic within the model, Harry knew, had taken Draco agonising precision to perfect.

But Harry thought he had good reason to piss Draco off; Draco had been persistent in bullying Harry since he had been put in charge of the Solar Stones operation. Harry didn’t even think their objective was that important at all, and he had no idea why he, Harry Potter, had been put on this case; it was asinine and below his talents as an Auror.

Harry had made a big deal out of being sorry for dropping the model in front of their entire task force, but secretly he was impressed with how he managed to get Draco to shiver with rage. As Draco played it cool and promised it would be nothing to construct a new one as soon as possible, Harry watched in sick delight as Draco worried his bottom lip and looked as if he could either take a chance at hitting Harry... or cry.

Harry seemed to be pro at cooking up that storm in Draco.

So it didn’t surprise Harry when Draco caught up with him later and threw him violently into a toilet stall and cast silencing spells with such rage that they left Harry's ears feeling as if they had been stuffed with cotton for a good long minute. 

“Keep your fucking mouth shut,” Draco commanded as he slapped Harry on the right cheek with his palm and his left cheek with a bony back-hander. Harry gave a muffled cry and Draco did it again with pleasure.

“I can’t have you talking right now,” Draco murmured, taking Harry’s watch off his wrist and transfiguring it into a scarf. He wrapped it around Harry’s head and gagged him. “You hear me?” Draco asked, lifting Harry’s chin up so Harry had to look him directly in the eye. “You don’t even understand what you have done!”

Draco looked close to tears. But, Harry only managed a fleeting observation of Draco’s face before he was turned around and bent over the toilet bowl, his hands propping him up on the cistern.

Draco reached around Harry and undid Harry’s trouser buttons slowly. Harry moaned as each button came undone. “Do I have to silence you by gagging you with a spell?” Draco asked with a snap. Harry made no noise to indicate a yes or a no.

When Harry’s trousers were undone and his belt unbuckled, Draco slowly pulled them down with Harry’s boxers, and pulled one of Harry’s shoes off too. He took Harry’s shoeless foot and pulled it free of the pool of trouser leg and underwear around it, guiding Harry to stand with his legs in an upside down V.

Draco stepped as much as he could away from Harry’s body and left Harry naked and prone. The coldness against Harry’s skin, and the exposure to Draco’s critique was agonising. He briefly worried Draco might leave him there, toilet door open for anyone to see.

Instead, Draco chose to speak. “I hate you, you know?” Harry gave no indication of answer. “The only thing that sets you apart from scum, Potter, is you were bestowed with the chance to be _important_ by the unfortunate prophecy linking you to the Dark Lord.

“But you have always been pathetic. You started out as a worthless, grubby, _**ugly**_ little boy, then turned into a tiresome bore who relied too much on their friends for navigating all your chances to be _truly_ great, and then carried on stealing all the attention, right up until you failed to protest against everyone saying you were the savior of the wizarding world when it was quite clear that Longbottom, of all people, did something far more impressive.” 

Draco paused to add weight to his next statement. “I wish you had died that night,” he told Harry with cold vitriol.

Harry felt dreadful at hearing those words tumble out of Draco’s mouth with such venom, and he loved the sound of it too. He wanted to turn around and kick Draco, remind him that Draco was inherently evil and destined to live a life of pain for his decisions in the war. 

But he stayed still, letting Draco be dominant. He felt Draco move up behind him, the rustle of Draco’s robes against his skin causing puffs of cold air to attack his flesh and give him goosebumps.

Then, Draco took his right hand and with forefinger and thumb, parted Harry’s arse cheeks to inspect the prize between them. “Look at that,” he breathed, “Harry Potter’s perfect little arsehole. I imagine you like it licked, huh?”

Draco paused, and the waiting made Harry twitch in anticipation.

“I asked you a question,” Draco growled before he spanked Harry hard. “Do you like your arsehole licked?”

Harry nodded, and made a sound of assent.

“I’m sure you do,” Draco purred. “Your parents would be so proud to know their son likes his hole licked and fucked and fingered.”

Harry, at his limit with the verbal abuse, bucked back and made to attack Draco but the blonde had the upper hand and put Harry firmly back in place.

“I’ve said it now,” Draco said with bruising power, “so fucking accept it if you want your lovely little hole played with... or I could just back off and let you go?”

Harry shook his head.

“You want me to lick that hole?”

Harry shrugged, just to wind Draco up.

“No, you know what? You don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve anything from me. Get on your fucking knees now!” Draco maneuvered Harry into a kneeling position, ungagged him, and told him to stay quiet.

“You’re going to lick _me_ instead. You’re going to taste me and you’re going to love it,” Draco said before he spat on Harry’s face. “Leave that there… don’t wipe it off.”

Harry just stared up at Draco.

“Stick your tongue out,” Draco ordered, reaching into Harry’s mouth and yanking it so it poked out of his red lips. “If you don’t want me to put you in a full body bind and fuck myself with your tongue, you better say so now.”

Harry merely challenged Draco with a mean stare, before Draco bound him, undid and dropped his own trousers. When exposed, he leaned over the toilet bowl to angle himself back against Harry’s mouth. When he managed to get the angle right, he fucked himself on Harry’s tongue for a few seconds before he unbound Harry, who eagerly went about tasting Draco’s arse.

Draco moaned as he was rimmed, and the sound was delicious to Harry. It only spurred him on, and he was annoyed when Draco told him to back off. “Right Potter,” he said as he stood and pulled Harry up to stand in front of him, “put your hands on the wall and tilt your arse back for me.”

Harry made no protest, and did as he was told. Draco made him spread his legs, and then he roughly inserted two barely lubed fingers inside Harry. He pumped them in and out, knowing full well he would be hurting Harry as he did so. “That’s enough for you,” he said and lined himself up against Harry’s twitching ring.

Draco teased Harry with the head of his cock rubbing around the rim, before he let the tip breach Harry. He groaned loudly as he became full seated, and then fucked Harry so hard that the man’s head hit the wall in front of him repeatedly.

“You like that, don’t you?” Draco breathed huskily. He grabbed a fistful of Harry’s hair and pulled, so Harry was forced to look at him. “You really do love getting fucked. It’s such a shame you’re the worst fuck, the worst sucker, and the worst licker I have ever known.”

“Yes, I’m sure Astoria is better at all of those things, isn’t she? Or does she sit at home waiting for you all day, hoping you’ll give her a baby, not understanding what’s wrong with her and why you won’t fuck her?”

The way Draco looked at Harry when he said that made Harry feel like the most evil man in the world. 

He had cut way too deep.

“I told you to shut the fuck up,” Draco whispered as he pulled out and forced Harry to his knees, giving Harry no time at all to prepare for Draco to slam his cock into Harry’s mouth. He thrust twice before cumming, and before Harry knew what was happening, Draco had dressed himself. 

“You deserved to have your model broken,” Harry said quickly, keeping Draco’s attention a second longer. 

“I hope a misguided spell from Ron kills you in the field,” Draco said, looking Harry in the eyes. He opened the stall door and stepped out.

Harry had finally made Draco cry.


	4. Draco's Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here lies a little interlude, exploring how Draco feels after his and Harry's fuck in the men's loos of the DMLE.

For four months, as he worked to rebuild the Solar Stones model, Draco ignored Harry and hardly spoke to him at all. He would defer all questions or answers to someone else in the team if Harry needed to be made aware of or wanted to know something. If Harry tried to get Draco alone, Draco acted like a slippery eel and slid out of Harry's grasp. 

Draco wouldn't even look at Harry unless he absolutely needed too, and he actively worked every day to ignore the penetrating fact that he and Harry had fucked each other. 

He wanted Harry off the Solar Stones case, but as he had put the team together himself and requested Harry to be part of it, he knew he couldn't just dismiss the man without a reasonable explanation. He was so very thankful that no one but himself, Robards and Draco's own superior knew how he had begged for Harry to be on his team when he had devised the operation.

Dear sweet Merlin, he loved Harry. He respected his capabilities, he admired his general goodness. So why, for so long, had he gone out of his way to antagonise and upset him? 

_Because that's the only way you can get his attention_ , Draco thought to himself. 

Harry had laughed at him the first week Draco had come to work at the Ministry. Draco had sought him out, hoping to make amends, but all Harry did was accuse Draco of trying to lure him into a false sense of security, and then rejected Draco’s efforts at friendship. 

And then Harry ignored him for a year, even when Draco said nice things to him or helped him with cases. 

When Draco had finally snapped and started missing reports, embarrassing Harry and taunting him, that was when Harry started paying Draco attention. 

And Draco hated him for it. 

In Draco's romantic mind, the mind that he used when he was not in Harry's vicinity, he adored the man. He loved the laugh Harry used when he was happy, he loved Harry's canny ability to protect and defend his friends to the death, he enjoyed Harry's sparkling green eyes that showed staunch abilities to overcome trauma and abuse, and so much more. He loved him, and he had done since he was thirteen. 

But in the mind Draco used when Harry was near him, he despised the man and he was only several curses away from killing him. Which is why he had found himself at a strange coalescence of feelings when Harry had attacked him at the Yule Gala. He could be close to Harry whilst still being despairing of him. 

And that Harry was so adept at BDSM and hate fucking was just a boon. It made everything so much simpler. 

But it was over between him and Harry now. Harry had seen to that when he had deliberately broken the Solar Stones model and had destroyed something Draco had poured his heart and soul into; something that would have defined Draco's career. 

And he had been so callous and vile when he had gone after the truth of his and Astoria's marriage. How could Harry not know the heavy weight Draco must carry from being in an arranged marriage? How could Harry not understand what it was like for Draco to deny a rather wonderful woman marital happiness? 

Reluctantly, he understood some of Harry's fury towards him. It was part PTSD and part grief and to some extent, Draco deserved punishment for the things he had done. He hadn't wanted to do them, no, but coercion and threat had made him do it, and why shouldn’t Harry hate him for letting the Death Eaters into Hogwarts or any of the other evil things he had done in his school career?

Anyway, Draco didn't want Harry anywhere near him anymore. It was over. It was done. 

He would just have to settle with finding lovely muggle men with green eyes and brown hair to spank him and sometimes let them fall in love with him for a night, so they fucked him slowly and lovingly and he could imagine for a little bit that it was Harry.


	5. Harry's Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter after this will contain liberal usage of cutlery in ways it _should not be used_!

Oh boy, Harry had hurt Draco that was for sure. 

It had been months, and Draco wouldn't look at Harry or speak to him unless absolutely necessary. 

Harry could admit to himself after he had had time to think about it that he was sorry for what he said about Astoria. And he was sorry that he had let his hate of Draco to go so far as to break his Solar Stones model. On reflection, he accepted that he could have done something less cruel; he could have pissed on Draco from a great height and that would have been far better than actively destroying something that quite clearly meant a lot to Draco. 

But he still hated the prat. And although it was somewhat unfair on Draco, Harry had reasons for hating him; Draco was the only person left freely walking around who had been an active participant in the wrong side of the war. He was the only enemy Harry could still hold accountable for their actions. 

Some of Harry’s dislike for Draco was completely fair however, stemming from the childish, and sometimes dangerous, bullying that Draco had found so easy to dispense. Draco had even tried to get him with a Cruciatus for fucks sake, which was intentional rather than unintended consequences of Harry’s Sectumsempra. Harry wondered if Draco had scars; he wouldn’t know, as he had never seen Draco completely unclothed.

Harry was furious that he had let his connection with Draco slip by; with Draco, he could be thrown about like a ragdoll by someone who didn't worship him, which was the complete opposite of the preening adoration he received from almost everyone else. And each punch and bite and tussel he and Draco shared felt relieving. Being hurt and then being pleasured was the most enjoyable thing he had ever felt! 

In Draco’s absence, Harry tried BDSM with other men but it was never the same. His boyfriend had agreed to try some light bondage in bed, but it was awkward afterwards and had driven a wedge between them enough that they broke apart spectacularly. 

Dare he say it? He missed Draco.

He knew he had to make it up to him.


	6. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little less violent, a lot more perverted. Here we go my friends, they are about to start changing the course of their relationship.
> 
> Are you hungry?

It would take a couple of months before they had their fourth tryst. It followed a cold and bitter exchange between them in a debriefing. 

"Potter," Draco began with an uppity tone, which signaled to all ten attendees of the meeting Draco was leading that Harry was, in fact, a prick. "You fucked up."

"Fuck off," Harry replied with bite. Some of their colleagues rolled their eyes, but hesitantly stayed out of the brewing argument lest it was exacerbated by outside interference.

"I told you specifically, Potter, to place the Pink Stone on the upper North corner and you didn't listen and now the whole fucking expedition has failed!"

"I told you, Malfoy, that Berkins cast a Diffindo my way, which I barely missed, and it hit the fucking chair which exploded and ricocheted around the room. Which, incidentally, knocked your poncy stone out of the way."

Draco growled at Harry. "You keep fucking this up for me Potter, don't you? Nearly a year of research and development just.. poof!... smashed to smithereens."

"It's not as if it was that important, was it?"

Draco stood in silence, a glare on his face that could make someone with a slightly weak disposition faint.

Harry had ruined Draco’s project twice. At least he had the decency to blush and sink down into his chair with his arms folded when he saw that Draco looked heartbroken beneath his fury. He completely deserved what Draco said next.

"I wonder what your parents would think if they knew you used your second and third chances at life just to run around as an unaccomplished, wild, ignorant Auror who took pleasure in destroying the efforts of others."

The room went icy cold.

Harry stood and left without looking at Draco.

And Draco was glad he had been able to finally cut Harry as deep as Harry had cut him.

.

.

Harry, not wanting to waste the opportunity to reconnect with Draco so they could resume their twisted flings, crept into Draco’s office as soon as the man went to buy his lunch. Knowing that Draco was the sole occupant of the office meant it was the perfect place for their reunion.

Harry had no idea what he was going to do; he wasn’t angry at Draco enough to hit him, but he was infuriated that Draco found every which way to blame Harry for things that weren’t his fault. 

Draco nearly dropped his salad and yogurt when he entered his office to see Harry sat on the edge of Draco's office sofa, elbows on his knees, ready to pounce. 

"Lock the door, Malfoy," Harry ordered, scowling with distaste. 

"Get the fuck out of here," Draco scowled back. 

"No. I want to fix this. I want to give you something new," Harry told him, improvising. The words stirred his arousal. Whatever was going to be new was going to be fantastic too.

Draco put his lunch down on the desk and folded his arms across his chest. 

"And what exactly do you want to do?" 

Harry stood and slowly walked to Draco. "I want to pay attention to pleasuring you whilst I break you down, bit by bit." 

Draco stood stock still, even as Harry stepped into his personal space. He narrowed his eyes at Harry, his arms crossed defiantly. 

Harry moved half a step closer, and reached out to weave his hands beneath Draco's robes, where he came in contact with Draco's belt buckle and undid it slowly. 

"Tell me, Malfoy," Harry demanded, "wouldn't you like me to give you pleasure?" 

Draco stayed still, ever more solid. "You're pathetic," he replied. Still, his heart was thumping, intrigued. 

Harry dropped to his knees, and pulled Draco's belt buckle free and then unbuttoned Draco's trousers; it was almost tender and sensual. "I despise you. I despise that you get such a thrill out of humiliating me." Harry edged Draco's trousers and pants down. 

"And you don't get a rise out of humiliating me?" 

“Of course I do,” Harry said as he arrested Draco’s hardening cock free of it’s fabric confines, before he licked the length from salty tip to root. “You’re an inbred prick,” lick, “and a liar,” lick, “and hell bent on proving daily that you are still a spoiled brat,” lick, lick, lick.

By the last lick, Draco’s dick was hard and he was moaning with his head thrown back. He was confused by Harry’s soft voice and soft administrations of tongue, but he was accepting the game, whatever that might be. 

“We keep going over this, Potter,” Draco told Harry, running his hands through Harry’s hair as Harry’s head returned to bobbing along with the act of blowing Draco. “I’m a brat, you’re a prick, I hate you, and you hate me. It’s becoming unoriginal.”

Harry pulled his head free of Draco’s hands and looked up at him. “No, it hasn’t,” Harry smirked. “It can get a lot worse than this.”

Harry stood and reached for Draco’s lunch and cutlery. “You keep fucking me over,” Harry told Draco. “You purposefully keep twisting things to look like I have made a mistake.”

“Except the model of the Solar Stones,” Draco reminded him. “You dropped it on purpose.”

“Well yes, I did do that,” Harry admitted before he put the bowl containing Draco’s salad on the floor by the sofa. “You deserved it. You have to be hurt for all the shit you’ve done in the past.”

“Pathetic,” Draco proclaimed, “you’re absolutely pathetic.”

Harry took Draco’s hand, once again almost tender in his touch, and guided Draco to his knees. “Here, on all fours… that’s it… and spread those legs for me.” Harry leaned in to Draco’s ear and whispered, “You liked me swirling my tongue around your arsehole, didn’t you?”

“Are you being all sweetness and light because you have finally realised that you’re in the wrong?” Draco asked smugly. 

Harry chuckled. “I think you’ll be sure of my intentions in just a moment,” Harry said. “Now answer my question.”

“The only thing you’re good for, Potter, is licking my arsehole… if that’s what you mean?”

“We shall see about that,” Harry chuckled before he moved behind Draco and parted Draco’s cheeks to get a lovely look at what lay between them. “It’s not the nicest boy pussy I have ever seen,” Harry commented, “but it will do. I think we can make it prettier for you.”

Harry leaned down and gave Draco's hole several flicks of his tongue, revelling in Draco’s grunts of appreciation. 

“You must be hungry,” Harry drawled. “There’s that lovely salad in front of you… why don’t you eat?”

Draco stilled. “What in the name of Merlin is this _new_ sick perversion of yours?”

“I want,” Harry said strongly, “you to eat that salad like a dog would eat out of it’s bowl, whilst I lick and finger your arsehole.”

Draco moved to kneel away from the sofa. “On what earth are you from? That’s disgusting-”

“And so are you, Malfoy,” Harry cut in. “Do it, or you won’t get fucked.”

“And who says I want to be fucked by you?” He asked sharply. 

“Oh… shall I go then?” Harry asked with feigned innocence as he stood, walking with heavy footsteps to the door.

“Or you could stay,” Draco said with a growl, “and finish what you started.”

“So you will eat then?”

Draco turned his head away from Harry and nodded. 

“Good,” Harry confirmed. “Legs spread again, Malfoy, like the slut you are…”

Draco did as told, his head bent over his salad bowl. “Are you going to resume tonguing me, Potter, or are you going to leave me here.”

“If I go back to licking you, will you be a good little Death Eater and do what I say?”

Draco breathed out a long, irritated sigh. “Just get on with it,” he said with dismay.

Harry didn’t blame him for his reluctance. He would be terrified of being under Draco’s power to such an extreme, but he knew that they both would get something interesting out of this session so he ignored Draco’s prissyness.

Harry knelt behind Draco and starting to lick hungrily. He secretly thought Draco tasted wonderful, and could spend hours fucking him with his tongue.

As Harry licked, slurped and sucked Draco’s puckering hole, Draco simultaneously thought Harry’s tongue was the most erotic thing in the world, and he bucked back against it.

“It’s lunch time,” Harry reminded him. “Lean down there and eat!”

Draco swallowed back his humiliation and took his first bite; the dressing rolled down his chin, but the conflicting sensations of chewing and swallowing delicious food with the pleasure of Harry’s tongue going hungrily at his puckered hole, brought a whole new experience of existence to Draco. His knees quivered with ecstasy. 

Harry ran his thumb over Draco’s slicked entrance. “That’s it, Malfoy… I think you’re ready now.”

Draco wondered for what might he be ready, but decided against asking, for fear that Harry’s gentle ministrations would be taken away.

He heard Harry reach for something and then return to his kneeling position. With just a word, Harry had lubed up Draco's crack. 

And then something cold and foreign touched his hole. 

Draco jumped, unprepared for what Harry was doing. "Potter?" he queried with a bit of a wobble in his voice. 

"Don't worry, Malfoy. It's just a fork handle." 

"What?" Draco yelled. "Potter, you have lost your mind!" 

Before Draco could move away, Harry breached Draco's hole with the silver handle, and gently began pushing it in. "How's that? Want more?" 

Draco didn't reply. He didn't know what to say. 

"I asked you a question!" Harry snapped. 

"I don't know," Draco replied. 

Draco couldn't see it, but Harry beamed. He did feel Harry start sliding the handle in a little faster than before, and moaned as Harry started pulling it out again. 

"Oh no," Harry said in mock care, "you haven't finished your lunch. Better get to it," he said, before pushing Draco's head towards the bowl. Draco's hips immediately went higher, his hole becoming more exposed. 

Draco felt Harry stop fucking him with the fork, and then heard Harry sigh as Harry removed his hand from it. 

Draco felt rising humiliation at the fact he had a fork sticking out it his arse. A fork! Sticking up out of his arse! 

"It's not enough," Harry said full of sorrow. "Here," he intoned with more cheer, "maybe a knife will do it." 

Draco knew Harry wouldn't put a knife in him with the blade first. Right? 

He needn't have worried. All he felt was the cool thick silver handle enter him and then blinding, perverted pleasure explode throughout his body as Harry fucked him with both utensils. 

"Eat, Malfoy," Harry reminded him. 

Draco happily complied, even when Harry stopped his ministrations and sat watching him eat his lunch like an animal. 

And oh! He was watching Draco eat his lunch in the fashion of a dog, whilst also acting as a human cutlery drawer. 

"Look what I found," Harry said in delight some moments later, just as Draco finished the last bit of salad. 

Harry took the teaspoon Draco was going to use for his yogurt, enlarged the handle and slid inside Draco. He pumped Draco's arsehole with the implements for a minute, as Draco moaned with pleasurable humiliation. 

"I bet none of your other lovers do things like this to you, do they?" 

"You're not my lover," Draco snapped venomously. 

"How many other men do you fuck?" Harry asked Draco softly. 

"That's a rather personal question," Draco growled. 

"More personal than letting me stick cutlery up your arse?" 

Draco didn't answer. 

Harry resumed fucking him with the utensils, and it felt so good and so filthy that Draco moaned. 

"I don't want you fucking anyone else," Harry whispered. He had no idea where the thought came from, but once out of his mouth, he knew it was true. He wanted Draco to only experience sex with him and him alone.

Draco didn't get a chance to answer before Harry sped up the cutlery fucking before summing Draco's jar of yoghurt. He handed it to Draco. 

"Open it." 

Draco did as told, and then Harry had him hold it under the head of his leaking dick. "You do pre-cum a lot," Harry observed. "It should make for a nice addition to your yogurt… In fact, some of those lovely thick ropes of cum you make should give it a nice taste." 

Harry paused for a moment, and looked at Draco thoughtfully. "You have never been more attractive," he whispered. 

Harry reached around with his free hand and started wanking Draco in time with the pumping of the cutlery in Draco's arse. Harry watched in delight as Draco shivered with pleasure, and felt his own cock plead to be free from the confines of his trousers. 

It didn't take long for Draco to cum. His spunk met the top of the yogurt and then proceeded to sink in slowly. Harry took the jar from Draco, and plucked the spoon from Draco's arse. He sat on the edge of the sofa, and then had Draco release Harry's cock from his trousers. 

"I'm going to spoon your yoghurt on to my prick," Harry explained, "and you're going to suck it off. Understand?" 

Draco looked up at Harry in wonder. He nodded in compliance. 

The first drop onto Harry's dick was cold. He let it slide anywhere it wanted, and happily pulled Draco's head towards his crotch to lick it all off. 

"I knew you were hungry," Harry whispered as he continued to apply yogurt to his throbbing cock. 

Draco's face was a mess, and Harry had never seen someone so debased in such a manner. That Draco was clearly enjoying being subjected to such humiliation was a turn on in itself, but the animosity between them and the power Harry felt at having such control was erotic beyond anything he ever hoped to feel in his life. 

As the last of the yogurt dripped onto Harry's member and was sucked down by Draco, Harry repeated his earlier statement. "I don't want you seeing any other men, you hear me?" 

He face fucked Draco before the blonde could answer, making Draco gag as Harry deepthroated him. Whiteish saliva poured from Draco's mouth and nose all over Harry's robes, and he wished he could keep it there all day, but it wouldn't be professional to walk around with the yogurt and cum mix staining his professional garments. 

Lost in the throws of ecstacy, Harry carried on repeating the statement over and over until it became jagged words, punctuated by a grasp at dominance. 

“I… don’t… want you to… fuck...fuck… any! other! man!”

After cumming, Harry panted in the afterglow, his chest rising and falling as if he had just run a marathon. He and Draco held eye contact for several moments before Harry reached over Draco's back and softly pulled the fork and knife from his arse before throwing them on the floor. 

"Do you understand me, Malfoy? There will be hell to pay if I find out you are giving that arse or that pretty mouth or that cock of yours to any other man." 

"You don't own me," Draco spat, wiping at his face. Draco didn't want to be only Harry's if it meant giving himself to a Harry who only wanted to use him like he just had. Draco needed love, he was a creature born to crave love, and even brief moments of passing love from strangers helped keep him together when every other area of his life was so bleak. 

Harry grabbed a fistful of Draco's hair and pulled his head back so Harry could look Draco dead in the eyes. 

"You're my toy. You're mine to fuck. You only do this with me." Harry said with firm belief. 

"Why should I?" Draco snarled. "This is wrong in so many ways. I should not be letting myself sink to such lows. I have a perfect set of lovers who I actually like,” he lied as there was no set, per se, “… why I do this with you can only be put down to the fact that I suffered one too many Crucios during the war." 

Harry let go of Draco's hair. 

"I'm not asking you Draco, I'm telling you. If you want to carry on with this then you're not to let anyone else near you." 

"Why?" 

"Because it's so much better to know that you are reserved only for me, even though we hate each other." 

"I think I'll pass." 

"Fine," Harry said, standing. "Have it your way." 

He cast a cleaning charm over himself, and looked back at Draco who was doing the same. 

"Fine," Draco growled. "You can see yourself out I presume?" 

Harry slammed the door as he left.


	7. Draco's Note

Harry received a note from Draco three weeks later. The little paper aeroplane landed on Harry's desk, and when he read it, his heart missed a beat. 

_I need you to come to my office straight away. There’s something I need to atone for. Can you send me a reply and say you're coming first? The password for the door is yogurt._


	8. Chapter 5

Harry opened the door to Draco’s office slowly. He felt out of his depth with this arranged interaction and he was not sure what to expect.

When he looked inside the room he was met with the sight of Draco bending over his desk, his naked arse high in the air. 

"Shut the door," Draco told Harry. He waited for Harry to do so before offering an explanation for his pose and his note. "I think I'm in trouble.” 

"Trouble?" Harry asked warily.

Draco nodded. "I let myself be fucked in the arse three times recently."

Harry snarled and made great strides to Draco. He curled his left arm under Draco's stomach and then lifted his right hand to spank him. His hand came down on Draco's arse in three loud snaps of sound. 

"What did I tell you?" Harry said, his mouth up against Draco’s ear before he bit Draco's earlobe. He was too into the game to see that Draco had resumed it without fanfare.

"That I was to only be used by you…" 

"Yes, and now you're all dirty. Did you let him cum inside you?" 

"It was three different men," Draco confessed. 

Harry spanked Draco harder and for longer. "You're mine, you hear that? You're mine to use until I get bored if you. A cunt like you doesn't deserve to be anything but a fuck toy. I have good mind to leave and never come back." 

"If you want to claim me, you have to fuck my boy pussy hard, right now!" 

Harry spread Draco's cheeks. He inspected Draco's hole. "How long ago was your last fuck?" 

"Last night." 

"Well then I definitely don't want you. No, not at all. I can go and pick up any decent man I want. Do you know how quickly they drop to their knees for me? I could get fucked and sucked by anyone I want." Harry told him bitingly. 

There was a bit of truth in his statement, but he didn’t exact the power he had over people’s sexuality, not only because it was _wrong_ but also because it was degrading to only be wanted for being Harry Potter. But Draco didn’t need to know that.

"Then what makes you any different from me, if you'll go around fucking all and sundry?" 

"Because I'm Harry Potter, that's why. And I wasn't branded by a Dark wizard. And I didn't help Death Eaters enter Hogwarts. And I'm not in a sham marriage." 

Draco dropped his head to his wrists on the table and gave a great sigh. So Harry was back to making use of Draco’s most blinding shame. He had hoped something might have changed for them when he seemed so tender the day he put cutlery up Draco's arse, but suddenly he knew he was wrong. 

" You're right," Draco agreed as he pulled up his pants and trousers. "I'm a piece of shit and I don't deserve this. Could you leave now?" 

Harry seemed to hesitate. Draco looked at him, taking in Harry's confused expression. "I-" 

"You know what, Potter?" Draco bit out, suddenly angry. "I don't want _you_ sleeping with any other man. I want _you_ to be my fuck toy. And I want you to bend over this desk as an apology for constantly being such an awful person." 

Harry looked stripped of his control. He didn't move, he only stood dumbfounded, so Draco flung Harry onto the desk and nearly ripped his trousers off as he pulled them down from Harry's hips. 

He made Harry spread his legs and then he took Harry's hands and made Harry spread his arse cheeks apart. 

He let Harry stay exposed in that pose for a half a minute, and Harry’s arms and shoulders began to ache from the awkward angle.

"When was the last time someone shagged you in the arse?" Draco asked with a soft, curious, almost clinical voice. Harry could imagine Draco holding his chin in analytical thought.

"A couple of months ago," Harry replied, his voice breathless from the pressure of his own body weight on his chest as it pressed against the desk. 

"Who was it?"

"You," Harry said, still exposing his hole. 

"Me?" 

"Yes! You! I don't let anyone else fuck my in the arse!" 

"Really?" Draco asked as if he was the cat who got the cream. "You mean _your_ man pussy is all mine?" 

Harry struggled to nod. 

"Well how about we agree that neither one of us can be fucked up the arse, but we can still go to bed with other people?" 

Harry seemed to consider that. "You're not to get touched at all by anyone," Harry stated. "I can do what I want." 

Draco slapped Harry's arse; half in the slit and half on the cheek. Harry yelped. 

"Fine," Harry grunted after a moment of recovery from a stinging rim. "Fuck who you want. See if I really care! This is just a game, Malfoy. None of this is real and you're a horrid shag. This is just convenient for me sometimes." 

Draco snarled. "You yourself are a shite fuck Potter, and I have no idea why I lower myself to fuck you." 

Harry let go of his arse cheeks, and made to stand. 

"Then it's over, properly," Harry said as he stood. 

"I want to fuck you one last time," Draco told Harry. "I want you to submit to me, let me do what I want to you. I want to cum on in your crack so you want to walk around all day with a sticky, slippery arse and then I want you to go finger yourself in the toilet. In fact, I want you to finger yourself for me right now to get started."

He pushed Harry onto his desk, Harry’s body laying on the full length of it, and made Harry spread his legs wide with his knees raised. Draco gave no thought at all to the important documents Harry’s body was covering and inevitably ruining.

Draco took Harry’s right hand and dipped his forefinger and middle finger in the ink pot, and then guided it them around to Harry’s arsehole. He encouraged Harry to start fingering himself, and then stood back to watch Harry paint his precious, hidden place. Harry moaned and bucked his hips, closing his eyes.

“That’s it, big boy,” Draco crooned, “fuck yourself.”

He reached out and gave Harry’s massive dick a few tugs, which caused Harry’s eyes to widen and elicit a gasp.

After a few more moments, he stopped his ministrations and then had Harry stand up. Draco walked to the corner of his office by the coat rack and pulled from the umbrella stand a long black cane with a silver snake head handle. “Do you know what this is?”

Harry nodded, his breathing and eyes wide in aghast fright. 

“Of course you do. And do you know why it’s here?”

Harry shook his head, no.

“I keep it here, Potter, so I can be reminded of the man I _don’t_ want to be.”

He rounded on Harry and then told Harry to keep his arms close to his sides. Draco then took the cane and threaded it through the crook of Harry’s elbows and over his back, so Harry was forced to stand completely prone and defenceless. “I’m hoping it will teach you how to be a better man too.”

Draco pressed Harry’s forehead onto the desk with a thunk.

Harry heard Draco’s trousers fall to the floor in a quiet rush, and then felt as Draco lined himself up against Harry’s cunt. He said nothing more as he slipped inside Harry and began fucking him roughly, messing up his desk even further.

Draco’s orgasm was corrupted by his resolve that it was going to have to be their last time fucking; he wasn’t going to do it anymore. He wasn’t going to let Harry hurt him with words anymore. He knew his marriage was a sham, and it ate away at him daily, so he would not let his reprieve from his lonely, tricky life be infected with the truth. He would rather cut his happiness completely away than compromise it with facts about Astoria.

When he had finished, he pulled out of Harry, pulled the cane from Harry’s arms and then tucked his inky, flaccid cock into his trousers. He turned around, not wishing to see Harry. “Go, Potter,” he said, trying to keep his voiced steady.

“So much for cumming all over my arse crack, eh Malfoy?”

“You’ll survive. Now leave.”

“Fine. Fucking, fucking fine!” Harry snapped. “I’m glad. I really am fucking glad! I **hate** you, Malfoy!”

“No you don’t,” Draco said lowly. 

Harry said nothing more. He simply left the room and slammed the door behind him.

.

.

.


	9. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco goes cruising and receives some sage advice, and Harry's not jealous at all.

It was a month after his and Harry’s… break up?... that Draco decided to go to the club he often frequented in Soho. He made the decision, even though he had considered not giving himself away to random people anymore, after his mother had written to him and ‘softly’ reminded him to try harder to produce an heir.

For a start, it wasn't 'softly' even if she had used the adjective to help prod him along. And secondly, it was _humiliating_ to read the letter from his mother asking him to investigate what she thought might be a form of impotence, just in case the problem was that he was failing to 'rise to the occasion'. 

_Yes mother_ , he thought to himself as he dressed for the club, _I don't rise to the occasion and I haven't since our fucking arranged wedding night five years ago._

He didn't see Astoria on the way out of the Manor, so he felt less shame than he normally did when he left her alone, childless and unloved whilst he went out and got his kicks. If only she would take a lover that looked even a shade like him then they might both be happy. Or at least a little bit happier. And then their families would be happier thinking they had finally managed to have babies if she conceived with her lover. 

Draco apparated to his chosen point in London and then walked through the alleyway and to a taxi rank. He absolutely refused to walk to the club; he always pulled up in a cab and exited as if he owned the fucking world. He knew that anyone hanging about outside, whether in the line or milling about, would see him and whispers would start about the blonde _god_ that had arrived. He would feel the appreciative eyes upon him as he gave a quick wandless influence to the doorman, who would let him in with a slight bow. Draco did not wait in line.

All of this, an act. And he knew that to be true, painfully, as he went through his charade and entered the club to become swallowed by the music and the bodies and the smell and the alcohol and the fantasy. And why was it an act? Because he wasn’t special, he wasn’t a god, he wasn’t anything but a closeted, shameful, evil man in love with someone who wanted nothing more from him than to be his fuck toy.

Whatever.

He moved about the floors of the club, up one set of stairs, then another, then another and scanned each room for someone that might suit him for the night. He let himself be dragged onto a dancefloor by a sweet looking redhead who really _knew_ how to move. Draco wondered if the man had taken pity on him, because he seemed to be having fun and encouraging Draco to do so as well, instead of trying to strip Draco right then and there as so many before him had.

Being dragged onto the dancefloor was nothing like being thrown about a toilet. Being smiled at as his dance partner held his hips and laughed at the excitement of it all was nothing, nothing, like having cutlery stuck up his arse as he ate off the floor. Being told he was beautiful by the redhead was so at odds with being told he was a shit shag. 

But being told he would do better if he smiled and didn't look like he was about to cry was a shade closer to how Harry treated him. 

“You’re right!” He shouted back. “Thank you.”

He made to move away, to escape from the insightful man because being pulled up on his true feelings was frightening, but the redhead grabbed his wrist and smiled. He pointed upwards and then mimed the action of drinking. And Draco thought _why not?_ , and followed the kind man. It felt nice to be considered by someone who wasn't a cunt.

They rose to the terrace bar, warmed by heat lamps in the early London winter. Draco had arrived only in his barely buttoned shirt and tight jeans, knowingly prepared to be made hot and sweaty enough in the club to forego the need for anything warmer.

It was quieter on the terrace, so Draco could properly hear the thick Mancunian accent when the redhead spoke. “I’m Joe,” he said as they walked up to the bar and got into the poor semblance of a line. 

“Daniel,” Draco replied.

“What do you want to drink?” Joe asked, pushing his way slightly through the crowd. 

“A whiskey and coke, please.”

Several men made appreciative comments of each of them both, and Draco bristled with a weird feeling of satisfaction and disgust. He didn’t deserve it. He was a fucking failure.

Joe led them over to a cushioned bench to the right of the bar when they had their drinks in hand. They were crowded by men; tall men, thin men, thick men, blondes, brunettes, redheads, bald men, sluts, virgins, twinks, bears. It was a fucking candy shop of potential lovers. 

It made Draco feel sick. What was he doing here? Why had he not found someone to _love_ him and keep him out of seedy places like this.

“Have you had a break up?” Joe asked, his thigh pressed up against Draco’s.

Draco nodded. That was what it was, wasn’t it? He and Harry had broken up, in a sense.

It was over.

It hurt.

“Right, yeah, I could tell,” Joe said, pleased at his observations. “So you here looking to get over whatever twat let you go?”

Draco hadn’t thought of it like that. He looked astonished at Joe, stunned with the realisation that he had _tried_ with Harry one final time and it was Harry who had let him go. 

“Yes, probably.”

“Want to tell me what happened?”

He did. He couldn’t tell anyone else, could he?

“He didn’t want me to see anyone else, but he wanted to keep on seeing other people.”

“You’d be surprised how often that happens, you know.”

Draco’s eyebrows rose. He hadn’t known. How would he, when he never got more out of a muggle than a fuck. And he had no gay wizard friends to discuss his dilemmas with. And more importantly, the relationships he had been privy to in his formative years were all arranged marriages with marital secrets held closely guarded. He had fuck all of an idea what a good relationship was, and he knew fuck all about the traumas other couples his age encountered.

Draco didn’t say anything back. Instead, he continued sipping his drink, looking around the throng of men surrounding them.

“It’s not a good thing for him to expect it of you if you’re not into it,” Joe continued, “so fuck him yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Joe continued making lovely, small talk. Draco didn’t feel preyed upon; he felt comfortable and supported… as if he had found a friend.

But then, just as they were getting to the small talk concerning where Draco lived, he saw him.

Walking straight into the middle of the terrace.

With a blonde. His arm wrapped around the blonde’s middle. 

Draco immediately stiffened, put his drink down and almost stood up before Joe’s hand came to rest on his thigh. “That’s him, isn’t it?” 

Draco nodded. Harry hadn’t seen him yet.

“Well, he seems to have realised what a beauty he’s let go; that bloke he’s with is the poor version of you.”

Draco blushed with the compliment. “Thank you…”

Joe leaned in to Draco’s ear and whispered: “Daniel, do you want to show him what he is missing?”

“How?” Draco asked, not moving away.

Joe nuzzled him gently, rubbing his hand on Draco’s thigh. “Pretend we are really into each other, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Draco whispered.

“Smile then, baby,” Joe encouraged, kissing Draco’s neck. 

Draco did as told. He hoped it didn’t look false.

“Put your leg over mine,” Joe told him, “and giggle loudly when I nibble your ear, okay?”

“Is he watching?” Draco asked, not daring to look.

“Yes,” Joe breathed against his ear just before he nibbled on it.

Fuck, Draco had not felt this alive in so long. He didn’t feel shameful or ashamed, he didn’t feel the need to hurt someone emotionally… no, he just felt like proving himself and _reminding_ Harry that Draco was a person too.

Draco giggled loudly, and then Joe was biting and nibbling and kissing and it all tickled so much that Draco was genuinely laughing. “Turn your head and kiss me,” Joe said, “if you like.”

Draco didn’t mind. He was having fun. He kissed Joe deeply, but briefly, and then Joe whispered against his lips. “Now I am going to wrap my arms around you, and you are going to turn around with a happy smile on your face and look all dreamily around the terrace, and when you see him you are going to look straight through him. Think you can do that?”

“Yes,” Draco replied with conviction; he was a Slytherin, of course he could do it.

He only caught a brief glimpse of it, but Harry was staring and he looked pained.

It had worked.

⧞

Joe made Draco pretend he was leading him away into the night for a tryst, but he took Draco away from the club and hailed down taxi for him. “You need to heal, Daniel. It’s no good you being here trying to get fucked when you’re hurt over someone who treats you shittily. Don’t settle for a one night stand when you are worth so much more.”

“You don’t even know me…” Draco said in protest.

“I know enough,” Joe said softly. “I was exactly where you were three months ago. Same story, sort of. My boyfriend… well ex, now… we were in an open relationship but with rules, you know. Well he broke those rules, several times. And I didn’t take it all that well.”

“So what do you suggest I do? It’s been a month since me and Harry split. Isn’t that enough time?”

“Not if you are cruising,” he said. “Find someone who wants to treat you right. I would offer… fucking hell, I would offer… but I’m not fixed myself.”

“Are you getting in or what?” Asked the cab driver, annoyed.

“Oh fuck off, you knob!” Joe shouted, slamming the door. 

Draco laughed, impressed with Joe’s casual social power. “Thank you. But can I ask… why are you here if you are not over your ex?”

“I came with a friend,” Joe replied, laughing. “Wingman for the night… apparently doing a better job of it for you than I am for Martin, but then again Martin had copped off with a guy in the loos so, what the hell.”

Draco hailed another taxi, and it pulled up swiftly beside them. “Thank you Joe,” he said. “You have been really kind.”

Joe grabbed him in a fierce hug, told him he hoped to see him soon, and let Draco go off into the night.

⧞

Harry was okay. He really was. He didn’t care at all.

He just reasoned, after slamming the door to his house so violently one of the glass panes in it smashed, that the ache he felt was just that of nostalgia and not of regret.

Or jealousy.

He was **NOT** jealous of that stupid ginger minge.

Not. One. Bit.


	10. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, you fucking perverts. The titular chapter.

Although she wanted to go, Draco did not ask Astoria to accompany him to this years Yule Gala. He lied to her by saying that he was only going out of duty and really, he wanted to be home and planning their trip to see his mother in France. If she believed the lie, then she was a fool.

Draco actually did think she was a fool to have stayed with him all these years, but he had decided to leave her; one of them had to do the right thing. Besides, he had spent a lot of time thinking about what Joe had said to him, about deserving more than someone who treated him the way Harry did and it had shattered his sense of familial duty. He was resolved to leave Astoria in the new year and let them both start anew. 

⧝

The real reason he didn’t want Astoria to accompany him to the Gala was that he wanted a nicer goodbye with Harry. He didn’t feel he could ever get over what had happened between them without something more ceremonial than what they had given each other in Draco’s office.

So he went to the Ministry Yule Gala and made an appearance, and hoped to Merlin that Harry would have the same idea as him and find his way to the hallway where it had all begun.

When Draco got there, he leaned against the wall opposite the office where they had first fucked, and pondered the crazy year he had had with Harry.

He thought about all the arguments, punches, humiliations. The cutlery up his arse. The active destruction of their professions. All of it.

He was wrapped up in his musings right up until the moment Harry appeared, dashing in his green robes and they stared at each other without saying anything for a long time, until Harry spoke up. “Are we going in or what?”

Draco gave a shrug as if to say _why not?_ , and followed Harry into the room with his back straight and chin tilted up. 

“What was that at the club all about?” Harry said furiously, rounding on Draco the moment the silencing spells had taken effect. He had his finger pointed right towards the blonde, directing a vicious accusation of something he dare not say.

Draco simply studied him as if he had gone mad. “What are you talking about?” He wasn’t supposed to have seen Harry at all, and he was happy to keep it that way.

“You and that guy, a couple of weeks ago.”

“Where?”

“Expressions,” Harry growled, “in Soho.”

“Oh!” Draco said as if he had finally cottoned on to what Harry was talking about. “You mean Joe?”

“I don’t care who the fuck it was, you absolute fucking slut!” Harry finished it off by muttering to himself something along the lines of public displays of affection.

Draco rolled his eyes and sighed in annoyance.

“What? You’re not going to say anything back?” Harry questioned, furious.

“I didn’t know I had to acknowledge you spying on me,” Draco said calmly back, folding his arms. He had a plan for tonight, and being deliberately hurtful was not part of it, so he aimed to rise above Harry’s childishness. Harry had had, after all, ample opportunity to make Draco his; it wasn’t Draco’s fault that Harry was being driven to be mean and angry with jealousy.

“I wasn’t spying,” Harry snapped.

“Well what were you doing then if you were lurking around in the shadows of some muggle club, watching me having a nice time with a rather lovely muggle?”

“I just happened to see you,” Harry said, deflating.

“And it has had such an effect on you,” Draco said smugly.

“No it hasn’t.”

“Yes,” Draco replied sternly, “it has. You’re all red, you are angry and you have gone straight into being hurtful to me.”

“That’s because I _**hate**_ you Malfoy.”

“No you don’t,” Draco echoed from their last tryst. “You don’t hate me at all. You might not like me, but you stopped hating me along the road. What I don’t understand is why you insist on being so _cruel_.”

“You have been just as nasty.”

“No I haven’t. I didn’t ruin something that could have been the making of your career. I didn’t go after one of your most shameful, living truths.”

“Oh fuck off,” Harry spat, “you brought my parents several times into it.”

“You’re right,” Draco replied quietly, “I did do that. But it was by no means as vicious as what you have said to me and you know that Harry. Keep your nose out of my marriage, will you?”

“It’s hard to do that when I know how much you’re hurting you wife.”

“It’s none of your business!”

“But it is!” Harry yelled. “Of course it fucking is when you have your cock up my arse or I’m face fucking you in some toilet! Fucking hell, Malfoy… it might all have been different if you weren’t a cheating bastard.”

Ouch. That stung Draco.

And it looked as if it had taken Harry by surprise too. Which it had; Harry hadn’t known he harboured some resentment for being one of Draco’s illicit lovers.

“Harry, I can promise you one thing: after tonight, you won’t ever have to worry about what you’re complicit in regarding my infidelity.” Draco looked at him seriously.

“So this is our last time? Are you sure about that?” Harry had stepped up to Draco by this point, and was looking up to him with something akin to worry on his face.

“Perfectly sure.”

Harry was silent apart from a heaving breath that seemed to gear him up for something. “I don’t want this to be over!” Harry shouted as he exhaled. He looked as if he had just let his biggest secret slip. “I _need_ to hate you. I need to hurt you. I need this.”

“Pleasant,” Draco said bitingly. “How romantic.”

“Please,” Harry said in a flat voice, moving closer to Draco, “can we just continue how we have been?”

Draco laughed for a good half a minute, clutching at his stomach. “You actually want to go back to beating the fuck out of each other? You like being thrown about like a toy? You _actually_ want to be treated like that?”

“Don’t you?”

Draco ignored him, sobering. “Do you want to be given the goodbye we deserve, or are you going to stand there like a whining child unable to move on?”

“What do you want to do?” Harry said with narrowed eyes.

“Let me fuck you with the handle of your wand,” Draco said smoothly. He had thought this through and he had a plan. He wanted to shame Harry the same way Harry had shamed him, but he also wanted to be kinder and not end the night on a sour note. He wanted to prove to Harry that he was better than what Harry had him pegged to be.

“You’re insane,” Harry replied, shaking his head.

“Well yes, I did let you fuck me with cutlery, so I suppose I am. Give me your wand.” He held out his hand for it.

“No, Malfoy, it’s dangerous!” Harry said loudly, even though his cock was twitching for it.

Draco pouted, impatient. “I said I would fuck you with the handle of it, not the tip. I’m not going to kill you or maim you, Harry.” 

Harry looked terribly unsure for a moment, and Draco was quite sure he was going to flee. However, Harry stood up straighter and with challenge in his eyes, he pulled his wand free from its holster. 

Harry seemed to lose confidence the moment it was in Draco’s hand though. He dropped his gaze and refused to make eye contact with Draco.

And Draco wasn’t surprised; it was so base, so depraved, so disgusting, so demoralising. 

“Good boy,” Draco whispered. He shrugged off his outer robes, so he was left in just his waistcoat, shirt and trousers. And of course, his shiny, polished shoes. He knew what figure he made when dressed like this; powerful. He had also planned this out to the final detail, so everything about him communicated his authority. 

Draco turned one of the guest chairs in front of the desk around and sat on it, and then looked at Harry. “Unbuckle your trousers darling.” 

Harry, struck by the newness of it all, did as he was told with absolutely no resistance. Draco made Harry come to stand in front of him, and then drop his trousers to his ankles. “Now, bend over my knee.”

When Harry had settled, Draco hummed in delight. “Stunning,” he whispered, looking down at Harry’s bare arse. “I love seeing how easy you are for me. How much you want this. You are such a good boy, Harry. I am going to make you cum so hard…”

Harry groaned.

“But first, you need to atone for being such an untamed bitch. Tell me Harry, are you a slut?”

Harry didn’t answer.

“I asked you a question, Harry. Naughty boys don’t get a spanking from me, no. I just send them away without any fun at all. So answer me… are you slutty?”

Harry nodded.

Draco’s hand came down on his arse with a slight slap. Draco was going to enjoy building this up.

“Fuck!” Harry said anyway.

“Harry, I want to know if you get down on your knees for any cock that comes along wanting to face fuck someone. Do you do that, Harry?”

“No.”

There was no way Draco was going to let Harry win this. He was sure Harry would think that _not_ giving out to everyone who asked for it was a good thing, and he did think that, but Draco could twist the expectations. 

He slapped Harry’s arse slightly harder. “And why not?!” Draco growled. “What makes you so special that you don’t give it up to everyone that wants it?”

Harry cried out. “I don’t know!”

“Do men just drop to their knees for _you_ Harry?”

Harry was acutely aware that he had two ways of answering the question, and both were the truth; yes they did get down on their knees for Harry Potter but no, he had to have the fame associated with it otherwise he didn’t get the same reaction. His trysts with muggles and wizards had made that clear.

But, having already been told off for not being a slut, Harry tried to appease Draco by admitting everyone did. 

“Yes.”

“Eurgh,” Draco choked, “you put it around, don’t you?” He slapped Harry’s arse twice, the second harder than the first.

“Have you been a naughty boy recently? Have you been fucked by a lot of men?”

Harry hadn’t been fucked by anyone. He had only let Draco fuck him since they had started this whole strange affair.

“Not since you,” he said truthfully.

Draco spanked Harry once. “Such an idiot,” he breathed heavily, “why haven’t you been letting someone celebrate your tight hole?”

Harry didn’t answer that, because there was only one answer he didn’t want to think about.

But Draco made him.

“Why, Harry?!” 

Three hard slaps.

“Because it’s yours,” Harry said, panting as if the wind had been spanked out of him. 

Harry flushed with embarrassment whilst Draco’s heart gave a flutter. He had to tell himself that their relationship was over and that this was the death knell, lest he get his hopes up and start this fucking cycle of mutal abuse all over again.

“And what about fucking someone? Have you put that huge, throbbing cock in anyone’s arse?”

Harry nodded, but dare not speak. 

“Slut!” Draco cried, bringing his hand down on Harry’s arse.

He let Harry breathe for a moment, and ignored his stinging hand. He carefully rubbed circles on Harry’s sore cheeks, and gave them both a moment to recover. It would be almost loving, if it wasn’t so sad for Draco.

“Say my name,” Draco whispered a minute later. He wanted to hear it from Harry’s lips.

“Malfoy.”

“Say,” **slap** , “my,” **slap** , “name!” **slap** **slap** **slap**

“Draco, Draco, Draco,” Harry barked out. 

“That’s it my darling, well done, you’re so good for me.” He wasn’t sure whether hearing his name was nice or not. He would have preferred it in the throws of mutual ecstasy.

Draco rubbed Harry’s arse for a moment and then used his forefinger and thumb to spread Harry’s cheeks.

“Oh! What do we have here?” Draco asked with false innocence. “Look at that lovely little man cunt!”

He rubbed it with his thumb and then wandlessly summoned Harry’s wand from where he had placed it on the desk. “Okay sweetness, I think you have earned yourself a little treat.” He slicked Harry’s crack with lube from Harry’s wand, and then placed the wood in between Harry’s cheeks and gave Harry a sweet, teasing arse job. “Are you ready, Harry?”

Harry gave a little nod, so Draco breached Harry’s tight hole with the handle of Harry’s wand and fucked him lazily with it for half a minute. Harry was slow to react at first, but when he started moaning in earnest, Draco smiled.

“Is that dick hard for me, Harry?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a good boy. Okay Harry, now you have this very lovely wand sticking straight out of your arse, and I want you to see if you can cast a lumos with it.”

The room went cold. Silent. Filled with Harry’s aching humiliation.

“You’re mad…” Harry said at long last.

“Try it for me,” Draco purred, caressing Harry’s back, “you know you want to be a good boy for me. You know you want to make up for the Solar Stones and the hurtful words.”

Harry thought he could cry with the mortification of the current situation. But he tried it anyway, chastising himself for being so malleable as Draco’s little whore.

“Nope, that didn’t work, let’s try again. Say it with me darling, on three… one… two… three…”

They both said lumos together, and the wand gave a little flash of light which quickly extinguished itself.

“Nearly Harry, nearly! Let’s try again, I know you can do it. Take a deep breath, and focus… ready… one, two, three!”

“Lumos,” Harry said firmly.

And it worked.

Draco gave a slight squeal of delight. “Well done, well done.”

Harry tried to look over his shoulder to see, and could just make out the light.

He asked himself why did he feel proud of this disgusting achievement? His skin was crawling with shame.

“Okay lovely, say nox for me. We are going to try something else now…”

Harry did as told, and tried to ignore the rising feeling of enjoyment. He shouldn’t be liking this, honestly… he shouldn’t want to rub his cock against, and cum all over, Draco’s smart trousers because of being fucked by his wand.

“Harry, do you remember that little charm to make sparks fly out of one’s wand?”

Harry nodded dutifully, knowing what was coming. Just by participation, he was making a fool out of himself.

“Great! Try it for me.”

It took Harry three goes, but there he was, using his wand with his arse to charm sparks.

“Brilliant, absolutely brilliant! You have got me so rock hard, Harry. Fuck!” Draco caressed Harry’s cheeks softly. “Now, I want you to try summoning your Christmas present. Just say ‘my Christmas present’ and it will come to you.”

It worked. It fucking worked. And Harry was so impressed with himself when he saw the beautifully wrapped box hover and then neatly land in front of him, that when Draco started fucking him with the wand again, he held back no reservations and just allowed the moans to come forth.

A minute later, Draco had had enough of that, so he ordered Harry to get off his lap and sit on the floor. “Your arse will be sore, but I know you can manage.” 

When Harry had accomplished the command, Draco asked him to open the present and inside the box was five reports. The missing reports. The fucking kneazle report was on top. Harry looked up at Draco, angry and impressed all at once. “Merry Christmas,” Draco said with satisfaction. “And you have done so well. I think you should cum in my mouth now.”

And then it all went so fast from there, because Harry was standing up swiftly to receive his reward, and Draco was kneeling, and Harry’s thick dick was choking him, and Harry was face fucking him and grunting, so Draco reached up and fondled his balls for him and then reached round to finger his loosened arsehole and then Harry was cumming, cumming, cumming and it filled Draco’s mouth.

And once before, Draco had read in an erotic book about an act called snowballing, which required two people to share cum through kissing. He wanted to kiss Harry. He loved him, and he wanted him, and so he stood rapidly, grabbed the back of Harry’s head and pulled him in, prying Harry’s mouth open with his tongue and then sharing Harry’s cum with the man himself.

And Harry might have kissed him back… he might have been starting to kiss him back… but he might also have been coughing with distaste. Whatever was happening, was happening around Draco coming to his senses.

Because they didn’t kiss.

They didn’t like each other.

They didn’t want each other.

But they really didn’t share anything so intimate as a kiss or a hug.

That was not the game.

Draco had stepped over a line. A big, thick, mile wide line he should have known not to cross.

He could see the horror on Harry’s face when he stood back, and Draco’s heart began pounding in fear. Wordlessly, he summoned his wand and turned his back on Harry so he could get himself together.

Once formally dressed and neatened in a frenzy, he unlocked the door and sprinted from the room, leaving Harry behind.

And Harry wanted to spit the snowball out onto the carpet, he really did.

Instead, he swallowed.

And he hated that it felt like the right thing to do.


	11. Chapter 8

“I’m pregnant,” Astoria announced on Christmas Eve as Draco walked past her sitting room on his way to bed. “And I am going to announce it at lunch tomorrow.”

Draco closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. He then turned and walked into the room, coming to a standstill in front of Astoria’s chair. “I suppose I deserve this,” he said without emotion. “I thought it would solve our problems if you went out and got pregnant.”

“Will it?” Astoria asked with a shred of hope, but her eyes were those of a cunning Slytherin.

Draco shook his head. “Who’s is it?” He asked.

Astoria pursed her lips. “Never you mind that,” she told him firmly. “Just know the baby will be bright blonde and blue eyed. No one will ever know.”

Draco grunted in despair. “We know!” He snapped. “Don’t you want something more real, Astoria? Do you not want someone who can actually love you?”

Astoria smiled and looked down at the hands she had resting on her still flat stomach. “I will have someone to love me,” she answered, her voice dreamy. “Our son will love me.”

“Merlin!” Draco cried, his hand slapping his forehead as he turned away from her. “I was going to leave you,” he told her with striking honesty. He didn’t turn to see if those words hurt. “I met someone who helped me see that using someone the way we have used each other is wrong. They made it clear in a way I can’t even begin to understand… and I was going to leave you because, having had the revelation that I should, and we could have both had second chances!”

“You were going to sully my family reputation with separation?” Astoria asked in disgust. When Draco turned back to her, he saw her face was pinched and her gaze livid. “How _dare_ you!”

“Would you rather stay with a gay man who doesn’t love you?” Draco shouted, his arms outstretched in frustration. “I don’t even know you!”

“You married me,” Astoria seethed. “You made a commitment to me, and you will stay with me and raise this family together. You are bound by your familial duty, Draco. Don’t forget it!”

“You want us to stay in this loveless, sexless marriage?” He asked with disdain.

“No one else needs to know the truth. We just need to keep up appearances.”

Draco scowled his most vile scowl, and he wanted to scream when he didn’t see her back down. “Yes,” he seethed with his teeth grit so tight he thought he might chip them, “because that is what us idiotic children of pureblood tyrants do, isn’t it?” Draco, calling upon his young, out-of-control self, picked up the nearest breakable item and threw it against the wall with a howl. “What the fuck were we thinking?!” 

“We were thinking we were doing the right thing,” Astoria yelled back at him, “And we are well raised to live within the boundaries of tradition. You are bound by your ancestry to keep the lineage alive. You are destined to have an heir. So come on Draco, stiff upper lip and all that!”

Draco looked down at her, and their gazes held fast and calculating. Draco thought of Harry and his big massive cock, and he thought of Joe and how much he wished he could seek the man’s comfort and wisdom. And then he thought of his mother, and how broken she would be if he ended the marriage.

“Congratulations on your insemination,” Draco said bitterly as he stalked from the room.

⧝

_Ah!_ , Harry thought as he put down the Daily Prophet’s Wednesday edition, _that would explain why the git has been sulking since Christmas!_

He had just read the following announcement:

_The Houses of Malfoy and Greengrass_  
Wish to announce the honoured expectancy  
Of Draco and Astoria Malfoy’s first child  
Who is to join our world in July. 

Over the next few days, Harry ruminated on the news. He became more and more decided on the likelihood that Draco’s demeanor had a sincere amount to do with the fact that he did not want children, nor had he been part of the choice to have this one.

It was supposition of course, but it still elicited a small amount of sympathy from Harry. But it mostly enraged him! The shit deserved it, didn’t he? He deserved to be made to do the right thing by the woman he had married under false pretences.

Still, it irked Harry that Draco wasn’t his normal arrogant self; it felt as if the world was off kilter and so one day his irritation boiled over and he found himself following Draco to his office. He slipped into the room before the door could fully close, and had to dodge a hex Malfoy sent his way.

"Fuck off!" Draco yelled at Harry who was locking the door behind him. "Fuck off Potter, get out of my office!" 

Harry crossed the room and grabbed Draco by the shoulders, pushing and shoving until Draco was sprawled on the floor. He looked down at Draco, who was wide eyed and unmoving, and Harry had the faintest urge to lean down and kiss some comfort into the man. 

"Wake up!" he yelled in Draco's face instead. “You’re doing my head in, shuffling all about the place as if someone has kicked your puppy.” 

Harry spent a moment analysing Draco when the blonde made no motion to retort Harry’s words. He didn’t have much of a plan of what he was going to do, but now that he was so close to Draco it seemed there was one urge, and one urge only, which was to speedily undo Draco’s trousers and pull his soft penis out and into his hand.

Harry wrapped his hand around Draco's cock and stroked it teasingly until it was hard. “Has it been awhile since a man touched you?” Harry asked quietly.

Draco nodded and gave a whimper, his gaze decidedly away from Harry’s.

"You need this, don't you?" Harry asked him. 

Draco whimpered again and nodded his head. As Harry sped up his strokes, Draco let his head fall back, exposing his throat. Harry wanted to lean down and nip it, but something about the interaction demanded clinical efficiency and not anything more intimate that the providing of a service.

He tossed Draco off, letting Draco take his time to enjoy the wank. He was patient and supple until Draco came, and Harry made no moves to disrupt the obvious release Draco so needed. 

"Get it together," Harry said when Draco had cum in thick silky bolts. "Stop fucking moping around." 

And that was all. Draco watched Harry leave, confused and grateful and angry all at once.


	12. Chapter 9

Harry had just been about to take a leisurely wank to the gloating image of Alan Pipkin, a chaser for the Magpies, when his doorbell rang. 

Curious as to what bastard would ring his doorbell after ten o’clock at night, he rose from the settee and made his way to the door. The tiles in his front hall were cold under his feet, but his blood boiled unexpectedly when he made out the tall, thin form of Draco Malfoy silhouetted through the stained glass panes in his door.

He placed a comfortable scowl over his face, ready to berate Malfoy for invading his private space, before he opened the door slowly. Draco sped up the opening, however, by placing his palm hurriedly against the wood and pushing it open.

He was breathing heavily, and completely dishevelled. “I’ve left her,” he told Harry in a rush, stepping past him and into the hall.

“You’ve what?” Harry asked confusedly, closing the front door absentmindedly. He barely registered the fact that he had willingly accepted Draco into his home. 

"I left Astoria." 

Harry felt very uneasy with the intense way Draco was looking down at him. His eyes were wide, pupils dark and open. 

"You have just left your wife? The same wife I heard has just given birth to your child?" Harry asked in an appalled disbelief.

"Not mine," Draco responded breathlessly. "Donor. Or she took a lover. But not my child…" 

“Did you run here?” Harry queried, curious as to Draco’s breathless state.

“Somewhat,” Draco replied before he moved in quickly to Harry's space, pushing him far too eagerly against the wall in Harry's hallway that housed a collection of coats and jackets on pegs. The procedure was somewhat forceful, but there was a need behind it that could not be ignored. It took Harry's breath away, but not in romantic thievery.

"Draco,” he scolded, arching up and away, trying to push back, “you’ve gone mad.”

Draco ignored him and sank to his knees, tugging Harry’s jogging bottoms to his ankles before burying his face against Harry’s crotch. He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of a day’s worth of musky sweat. 

Harry was frightened at Draco’s attitude. He hadn’t ever seen Draco so animated, or so attentive. He kissed Harry’s gargantuan dick, rousing it into hardness, tonguing everywhere he could. Harry purred in pleasure, his head falling back against the wall as he waited for a bite or a pinch to sweeten their tryst.

But nothing of the sort came.

Draco ran his hands up and down Harry’s thighs as he took Harry in his mouth, allowing himself to be gagged. Looking down in horror, Harry waited and waited for something to happen to balance the affection but he was assaulted with the sound of Draco pulling back off his dick with a pop and Draco’s following words.

“I have missed you,” Draco told him, taking Harry’s dick in his hand and fisting it slowly, “so very, very much…”

Instantly, Harry pushed Draco back so Draco fell back against the tiled floor painfully. “You’ve gone mad,” Harry repeated, “absolutely mad. How dare you come to my house like this?!”

“I’ve missed you,” Draco replied sternly. “I have missed you so fucking much it hurts.”

“You just left your wife!”

“A wife that I shouldn’t have married… a wife I was going to leave!”

“A wife who just gave birth.”

“To someone else's baby!” Draco groaned, shoulders slumping. “I fucked up,” he continued, “I made a fucking mockery of my life and I am trying to fix it. Will you just come here and let me shag you in celebration.”

Harry pulled his trousers up and crossed his arms over his chest. “Whatever you think we are, we are not. I hate you, and you hate me, regardless of what you say. I am not here to be used in celebration for you finally doing the right thing. I want you out of my house. If you want a fuck,” Harry said bitterly, “then do something to piss me off and then I’ll come hold you up by the throat in some dingy toilet whilst I finger you silly.”

Harry tried not to absorb Draco’s hurt expression as he bent down and pulled Draco up roughly by his elbow. He tried his very best not to feel anything but pleasure as he shoved Draco roughly to the door so Draco crashed into it with a bang. And he really, really tried not to think anything at all that resembled regret or dismay as Draco nodded, not meeting eyes with him, and let himself out. 

When Harry tried finishing himself off a little while later to the face of Alan Pipkin, he found himself completely at the mercy of memories of Draco as ribbons of cum coated his stomach. It was at that moment he knew he needed to let Draco in. Just a bit.


	13. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I recently started buying a lot of houseplants

Draco was overwhelmed with emotion when Harry showed up at the Manor four evenings after Harry had kicked him out of his house. 

The first emotion was of pure fucking fear that his mother would notice Harry's presence and maybe make an assumption as the old bint was known to do, rightly or wrongly. 

The second was annoyance that Harry had the audacity to keep playing such games with him, coming and going and cumming as he fucking pleased. 

And the third was shock, followed by an immediate arousal when Harry leaned in to kiss him as Draco stood in the open doorway. 

"We can't do this here," he told Harry in panic, stepping out into the deepening evening and shutting the front door of the Manor closed softly, so the latch didn’t make an audible click. 

"Even more reason to do it here then!" Harry breathed wantingly, eyes full of lust, before he pulled Draco too him and kissed him again, his hand firm in the small of Draco’s back. 

Draco moaned into the kiss, and lamely struggled against Harry's hold, and when Harry released him, he moved back in to Harry to keep their bodies close. "Are there people inside?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Draco nodded. 

"Your mum?" 

"Yes." 

"Anyone else?" 

Draco shook his head. 

"Interesting," Harry said thoughtfully, looking around at the front gardens. "Then I think you should cum in that plant pot, right there," he said, his eyes setting on one of the pair of bay trees that flanked the front door, that sat in large, blue and brown terracotta pots. 

"Potter, that's disgusting," Draco told him with a pinched face of distaste. 

"Exactly," Harry confirmed, taking Draco by the hips and turning him around. He pressed his chest against Draco's back, and held him briefly by placing a hand on Draco's chest and the other on his waist. 

Draco whimpered at the contact, and purred as Harry began running his right hand from his chest to his hip, ducking his fingers below Draco's waist band. "Undo your trousers for me," Harry asked breathlessly, sighing with contentment as Draco's arse pressed back into his groin. 

When Draco's belt was undone, Harry pushed Draco's trousers to his ankles, and then reached around to place Draco's hand on his own cock. He moved it kindly, considerately, and tenderly guided Draco into masturbation. 

“That’s it,” Harry purred. “I want you to fertilize that soil for me, Draco.”

Draco groaned. “This is absolutely absurd,” he told Harry, but ground his bare arse back into Harry’s clothed groin nonetheless, just as the peacocks started to whistle to the darkening skies. 

“Go faster then,” Harry told him, pushing and then grinding into Draco who sped up his wanking at Harry’s command. “Go on, Malfoy,” Harry encouraged, “spurt all over that pretty tree.”

And Draco wanted too. He really, really wanted too. He was still marveling in the pressure that Harry’s lips had made against his, and the thought of being kissed was the thought that sent him completely over the edge. 

Two juicy ribbons shot out from him and onto the soil of the bay tree, followed by the river of cum droplets that then followed. Draco gasped with it, and he fell into the panting one makes in disbelief of their luck.

“Good job,” Harry said as he turned Draco around to face him. “Tomorrow night, I want you to come round and fertilize _me_.”

And with that, he turned around and walked away, laughing. 

As Draco pulled his trousers up, he found himself laughing too. He looked down at the cum seeping into the plant and decided to leave it there. _Maybe something good will grow,_ he thought, pushing open the front door of the Manor and going inside for the night.


	14. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Right. I am done with this story now because I have disturbed myself far too much and enjoyed it all the same. If you haven't read it yet, go read the far better written BDSM fic [Warm Bodies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16592519/chapters/38884763) by Betty_Hazel. I gave it a little nod in this chapter.
> 
> I love you, you sluts and whores and deviants. Let me know in the comments your fave scene so I can get off to it later. 
> 
> Bye.

“Hey,” Harry said, uncomfortably shy, when he opened the door to Draco the following evening. Whilst it felt odd to admit it loudly, and with affection, in his head, he took in the sight of Draco and thought him gorgeous. 

“Potter,” Draco replied with a cheeky smile. “Can I come in, or are you going to stand there gawking at me all evening?”

“Yes, please, come in,” Harry stuttered, standing aside. He closed the door, and then Draco rounded on him, kissing him, moaning into his mouth.

“Fuck,” Draco whispered when their kisses had slowed down, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Not happy?” Harry asked, his hackles springing up just a bit. He stepped away and made his way around Draco and into the kitchen.

“Quite the opposite,” Draco replied, following him. “Nice kitchen,” he said, looking around at the white tile and marble countertop. “A little ostentatious for you, but nothing surprises me.”

Harry smirked, devious. “I made us dinner,” he said, gesturing to the stove. “Spaghetti bolognese…”

“Dinner?” Draco asked, noticing it for the first time. He preened with joy. “You spoil me.”

“Yes, well,” Harry started, charming the food into two bowls. “I thought it might be… nice.”

“Nice?” Draco asked, moving to take a bowl Harry held out for him. He then watched as Harry upended both bowls onto the floor where they spattered over everything within a meter radius. 

“Oops,” Harry said, laughing. “Now eat.”

Draco cringed and looked at the mess. “You want me to clean it up, don’t you? You want me to eat off the floor…” 

“Whilst I fuck you in the arse, yes,” Harry confirmed, the idea springing to mind. “And I haven’t washed the floor, so remember that whilst you guzzle down your dinner like a dirty little pig.”

Draco raised his gaze to the ceiling and sighed, even though he was thrilled and more than willing. “Clothes on or off?” he asked, still looking upwards.

“Trousers and pants off, everything else can stay on,” Harry ordered, standing, waiting. “You’ll feel more vulnerable like that.”

“You know,” Draco began, his eyes quickly moving to look at Harry, who seemed overly confident in his lazy lay-about clothing and bare feet. “It was me who ate off the floor last, and considering the fact you just dropped our dinner all over this particular floor, I think you should be a good host and clean it up.”

“Make me,” Harry challenged, eyes narrow, his stance ready.

Draco stalked the four paces to Harry, grabbed the bowls from his hands and chucked it into the sink where they smashed. The sound of the bowls breaking echoed between them, a quick reminder of their volatile affections. Draco then took Harry by the throat and slammed him up against the refrigerator, pushing the side of his face into the plastic. 

“Or I could just scoop it all up,” Draco whispered in Harry’s ear, “and pour it down your arse crack, and then lick you clean.”

“Please,” Harry begged. “I want that.”

“On your hands and knees then, Potter,” Draco told him, throwing him to the floor where his knees cracked against the tile. “Pull your trousers down.”

Harry did as told, starkly aware of the fact that they were both in a state of submission as each of them played an active, gross part.

When Draco began spooning the slippery sauce, meat and spaghetti into Harry’s crack, Harry moaned aloud and writhed, the sensations of heat and humiliation arousing him. “Fuck me, I’m hungry,” Draco groaned, rubbing Harry’s food into Harry’s arse, stuffing a small amount inside his rectum.

“Fucking hell that stings a bit,” Harry winced, his arsehole clenching.

“Acid, in the tomatoes. You’re just going to have to deal with it,” Draco told him, before diving in to taste the meal and Harry’s arse all in one.

He thought it tasted far better than spag bol and garlic bread, that’s for sure.

He cupped handfuls of the mixture off the floor, and poured it all over Harry’s arse, and with every dive to eat Harry out, quite literally, he became messier and messier himself. He wanted more of it, a lot more, and so he rubbed his face between Harry’s crease. He let it get into his hair, on his white shirt, even in the conch of his ears.

He palmed himself through his grey trousers, leaving a red, meaty mess all over the crotch and revelled in the base ruin of the act. At some point, he freed his throbbing member from those grey trousers and sat back on his heels, pulling Harry to him by the waist, forcing him to sit on his cock.

“I am going to fuck that sauce right up your arse, and you’ll feel the sting of it until I release my own special sauce inside of you,” Draco breathed in Harry’s ear, bouncing him on his lap, Harry moaning at the thought.

Considerately, he let Harry fuck Draco’s fist, the sloshing sound of liquid encapsulating them, and Harry’s sickeningly wet hole letting out little puffs of air from where it had been trapped inside of him through Draco’s thrusts. 

“I’m going to cum,” Draco told him a minute or two later, reaching around to get whatever scraps of dinner he could into his fist, wrapping it then around Harry’s throbbing cock, using it as a lubricant to get Harry to the finish line.

They were both taken by the most powerful orgasm either of them had shared, their moans and pants arriving mostly together, their bodies weak. They stayed still for half a minute or so, panting, feeling ashamed, feeling proud.

“You should go clean yourself up,” Draco murmured into Harry’s ear. “You’re absolutely filthy.”

Harry turned his head and took stock of Draco. The sight of him, covered in tomato sauce and mince elicited a bark of laughter from Harry. “Says you,” he replied, creasing.

“Oh fuck off, go and clean yourself up please,” Draco told him, pushing Harry off his lap. 

“Fine,” Harry grunted, standing and moving to the door. 

After Harry had made it two steps away from the kitchen, Draco called out: “I love you.”

“I know,” Harry replied. He stuck his head back in the kitchen and tutted. “Now clean my fucking kitchen up, Malfoy, or I’m going to charm a courgette to go in and out your arse for the next hour.”

Draco laughed, joyful. He didn’t think he would mind that at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter, bar an _optional_ epilogue. If you like the thought of Harry and Draco ending up happily-ever-after-with-things-shoved-up-where-they-shouldn't-be then you'll want to give me some kudos and a comment and get the fuck out of here.
> 
> But if you fell in love with Joe... the epilogue is for you.


	15. Optional Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As said, this is **optional**. I do not think in any way Harry and Draco's relationship would have lasted, so this is the ending I think works best for them both. I didn't imagine it when I started writing, but the moment I wrote Joe, I was in love, and I kept dreaming Draco deserved someone who could be kind to him.

It was the Yule Gala, and Harry hadn’t seen Draco much since their breakup one year and eight months ago. In true fashion, Harry arrived at the party slightly later than everyone else due to a lost report; the report had been lost in Harry’s filing cabinet, and was not the fault of anyone else this time. Upon entering the gala, Harry scanned the room for a floating tray of drinks and in doing so, was assaulted with the garish sight of Draco standing next to a beautiful redhead man, his arm wrapped around Draco, and Draco leaning into the embrace. They were so close, closer than he and Draco had ever been able to be, and clearly in love.

The sight of it riled Harry up, and he knew it was unjust, because it was Harry’s fault that Draco was with someone else, wasn’t it? It was his fault that he and Draco had broken up, and maybe it was _always_ his fault. Maybe he had been the one at fault every single time they fought.

For certain, their proper, official, certain break up was his fault. He had made just one _teeny tiny_ indiscretion with an old flame (Draco had seen it all, walking into Harry’s house and finding him on the sofa with his lover. And Harry tried to justify it by telling Draco that it was just a quick blowjob and a pinch of anal fingering to tide him over whilst Draco was supposed to be in France until Thursday (even though Draco had told him he was back on Tuesday and Harry had been too invested in listening to the Quidditch on the wireless to hear Draco properly) and surely that should have been fine), and then poof! like magic, Draco was gone.

And he had tried to explain properly, he really had! He had gone to Draco’s flat and stood outside begging. He shouted through the door that he loved him. He threatened to barge in and settle the matter and make it all okay again and explain that he didn’t know how to love without destruction because he was an abandoned, abused, neglected child.

And he worked himself up into such a tiswas that he _did_ barge in, his Auror training in ward breaking coming into full use, to find Draco was not there at all. 

He was gone.

And he remained gone for six months. Harry had sneakily bribed someone in the Department Of Mysteries to tell him that Draco had taken a leave of absence. 

“He needed it though,” the informant explained, “he was very sick after working so hard for too long.”

Yes, that was his wonderful, hardworking Draco.

Not _his_ any fucking more though, right?

Anyway, when he next saw Draco, it was when Draco had come back to the Ministry on a consultancy basis so he didn’t even have an office anymore, which meant Harry hardly saw Draco at all. And his presence was sorely missed. Harry walked past Draco’s office hopefully over the span of two months, hoping to hell Draco would arrive back but no, some scummy bitch had taken up in it. 

So, to Harry’s dismay, there was no office to drag Draco into anymore, to fuck him, to punish him, to humiliate him, to absurdly fall in love with him in. And more painfully, there was no Draco at all. And absolutely no chance to try and get him alone.

Because Draco was slippery and elusive. The handful of times Harry had seen him, he was in the company of other people. He was smiling, confident and gracious… and he barely made eye contact with Harry. 

It was only through hearsay that he had found out what had kept Draco away from him; Draco had been spending time on the continent, researching.

It nearly drove Harry mad, wondering what Draco was up too, and whether he was up too anything with anyone else. 

_You’re a daft cunt, Harry,_ Harry told himself, time and time again, as he sat alone and loveless in his lounge, hurting, empty, missing Draco. _It doesn’t matter who he’s with,_ he would reason, _he’ll come back. He always does._

⧞

When they broke up, Draco wasn't even sad. The relationship had run its course the second month in, because they had managed to find the perfect balance of love and pain and eventually they ran out of ideas, out of stamina, out of hate. 

And to be fair, it had mainly been about sex with Harry and Draco’s wilful ignorance of Harry’s dark, sinister, broken side. In truth, they didn't want to travel with each other or buy a house together. They didn't want kids together. All they wanted was to tie each other up and paddle each other, and the lack of common interests or a potential fulfilling future saw Draco fall out of love with Harry speedily.

It was just _convenient_ that Harry so happened to want someone else's cock whilst Draco was away. It was the perfect excuse to go... 

And find Joe. He needed to find Joe. 

It took him six weeks. In that time, he rented a flat in a muggle area and put in his request for leave of absence discreetly. He did his best to stay hidden from Harry, going so far as to wear a glamour as he scoured the gay clubs and bars up and down the country for Joe, who he so desperately wanted to see. 

Because Joe had said he would try it on with Draco if they weren't so broken, and now Draco wasn't broken and maybe Joe wasn't either. Maybe he was single. Maybe he thought about Draco all the time, wondering why he never asked for his number. 

And maybe Joe would invite Draco to be a happy person, and treat him kindly, and show all of the wonder that Draco assumed he possessed based on his sweetness that night at Expressions.

When Draco finally found him, he was walking down Manchester's Canal Street on a balmy June night with friends. It was eleven at night, and Draco had been sitting in the window of a bar, watching and waiting with a throbbing hope. When he saw Joe, he had to leap up and around people with difficulty, wordlessly dropping his glamour discreetly, nearly tripping over everyone and everything to get out onto the street. 

"Joe," he shouted at Joe's back. Joe had already passed the bar, and had just gone past Draco, completely unaware that he had passed someone who had been searching for him, someone yearning to make him happy. “Joe!” Draco shouted again, beginning to run to catch up.

Joe and his party turned around at the call and they all stood, like a garrison, expectant and on guard. As he approached, Draco saw Joe’s raised eyebrow, curious to who had called him. He looked at Draco for a moment, trying to place him. 

_Oh god,_ Draco thought, his heart stopping cold, _he doesn't remember me!_

But then Joe sprinted up to Draco with a, "Fucking hell! Daniel?" 

"I'll cut to the chase," Draco told him with passion, out of breath. He had his hands on Joe's shoulders, and they were so very close. "I have been looking for you… for a long time. I want to take you out. For dinner. Tomorrow. If you're free and available?" Draco hated the way his voice pitched at the end, but he asked himself not to feel shame for feeling so strongly about the question, acknowledging he had high hopes for Joe’s reply.

He waited as Joe blinked a good deal, rubbed his face, stepped back and covered his mouth. He looked in complete disbelief. "Holy shit," he said in awe, "you're bold" 

"You’re worth the risk,” Draco told him, his breath still shallow. “Look… I’ve been looking for you, for a long time, because it was a completely stupid mistake not to get your contact details. Please… if you’re not seeing anyone, will you come out with me for dinner?”

Joe nodded. "Yeah, sure… I mean… wow..." 

"Will you come meet me tomorrow night? Come out with me?" Draco pushed, smiling nervously, shuffling on his feet.

Joe looked back at his friends who were waiting with curious expressions. 

"That lot can bugger off for the night. How about we get a drink now?" 

Draco breathed a sigh of relief, but knew he had to take one truly brave leap and be honest, at the risk of losing the chance with the beautiful, smashing man in front of him:

"Okay but there's one thing you have to know before you come. My name is Draco, not Daniel. I used Daniel in the clubs because I'm from a rather… conservative family; highly religious, if you will. The name Draco sticks out. Traceable. I’ll tell you all about it when we sit down." 

It wasn't far from the truth. 

"I prefer Draco," Joe said, trying the name out slowly, surprisingly not offended at having been lied to. "Wait here… I'll just tell that lot to fuck off without me." 

And that was the beginning of the rest of Draco's life. No man ever hit him again, for pleasure or for fun. And the only time he ever held any concern for Harry after that was when he felt skin stripping pity as he saw the man try to get his attention at the last Yule Gala Draco ever attended. 

⧞

At that Gala, and after spotting Draco, Harry stood and sipped his whiskey way too fast, watching Draco and his _companion_ with jealousy. Of course he had _heard_ rumors that Draco had come out, but now it was completely out in the open. 

And what he saw was galling: it was the same ginger twat Draco had been kissing on the terrace at Expressions, in what seemed like an eternity ago. 

The fact that the ginger twat was a muggle, and wrapped happily around Draco, made Harry feel frantic with the inability to process the differences between the Draco he had made out in his head with the reality standing across the room.

Harry tried, even though Draco looked soppily happy by his lover who quite clearly adored him, to believe that Draco was masquerading and putting on a show to wind Harry up.

 _Of course he is,_ he thought to himself, downing the rest of his drink. _Draco likes violence, spitting, pain. He deserves it, and I like it. He doesn’t really like some soft, puppy dog eyed idiot!_

By his third whiskey, Harry had convinced himself that Draco was only there for Harry, and so Harry found himself completely ready to start their yearly Yule Gala misdeeds. 

He waited until he had finally made eye contact with Draco, raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement, and made it very clear where he was heading off too.

If nothing else, Harry believed the start of their tradition would get Draco to see sense. To pay attention to Harry and then they could fix things. Everything would continue as it should.

He was excited, and woozy with whiskey when he got to the office of their traditional Yule fuck, and waited. At first, he leant against the wall casually. And after some time, he had to move because his leg ached from his standing posture and so he paced a little in the hallway. After another five minutes, he took to sitting on the floor, back against a wall.

After half an hour, he gave up.

Draco was not coming.

He never was.

And when Harry returned to join the party, Draco’s had gone.

After standing alone for a while, his heart aching, Ron came up to him and jovially leaned in to whisper in Harry’s ear, “Can’t believe that _Malfoy_ of all people is a poofter and marrying a redhead! I wish his eleven year old self could see him now; he wouldn’t make such jokes about Weasley’s if he knew he would end up with the muggle version of one, would he?”

“Well that was fucking fast,” Harry muttered under his breath.

“What’s that?” Ron asked, grinning. He didn’t wait for Harry to answer, instead continued on, dopey and joyous with gossip “Brilliant, isn’t it mate? Marrying a redhead! Ha! What a poof.”

“Yeah…” Harry replied darkly as his ego shattered. “Brilliant.”

⧞

I can certainly tell you that Draco ended up happy and safe, his house-husband enjoying the life of luxury as they toured the world together. And I can tell you that they fulfilled the vow of death do us part. 

And I can tell you that for Harry, he hurt for a long, long time from his loss of Draco. But he eventually, fed up with his broken heart and broken childhood and broken soul, took himself off to therapy. And by the end of the first year of treatment, he felt more stable, far less raw. 

He still liked rough sex though, the fucking pervert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this fic. I am trying to be a better writer, so to expand and re-write Hate Fucking has been a very welcomed task and I am happy with the result.
> 
> On a serious note, don't let anyone treat you like they treated each other for almost every encounter they had bar the final two. You deserve better. 
> 
> Well... the cutlery up the arse was hot as fuck though, as was the wand. Yeah... those things are okay.
> 
> Love you.


End file.
